Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart
by Raven3182
Summary: During the battle at the Department of Mysteries something unexpected happens and a knight from a place far, far away suddenly finds himself in the strange world of Harry Potter. How will Harry, as well as the rest of the wizarding world react to having a paladin thrust into their midst? Evil closes in on all sides, yet the Light still shines in the Darkness. A/U.
1. I

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

**Summary: During the battle at the Department of Mysteries, something strange happens, and a knight from a place far, far away suddenly finds himself in the strange world of Harry Potter. How will the wizarding world react to having a paladin thrust into their midst? Evil closes in on all sides, yet the Light still shines in the Darkness. OC, A/U.**

**AN to be found at the end of the chapter.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

I

"I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black!"

The crazed witch sang that refrain over and over as she ran toward the exit from the amphitheater that was hewn out of the bedrock deep below London in the Department of Mysteries.

With a vicious cry, Harry wrenched himself out of Lupin's grasp and leveled his wand at Bellatrix.

"_Confringo!_" he shouted, heedless of the battle raging all around him. Harry's world had seemingly contracted to simply himself and the fiend that stole his godfather from him.

"_Confringo!_" Harry screamed once again. However, his aim was off. Harry's first spell went wide by several feet, while his second struck the top of the doorway that Bellatrix was running toward. Showing more awareness than Harry thought possible for such a deranged witch, Bellatrix quickly changed direction and dove against the wall just as the ceiling above the doorway came crashing down.

"Looks like wittle, baby Potter came to play!" the witch gleefully shouted as she regained her feet, "but does the wittle baby know the rules? _Incendio!_"

Harry quickly conjured a shield to fend off the flames hurtling in his direction but was unable to dodge the simple tripping jinx that Bellatrix sent following after.

As Harry sprawled out on the floor, Bellatrix took up her chant once again, "I killed Sirius Black!" and ran toward a different doorway.

"She will not get away because of a bloody tripping jinx!" Harry screamed as he scrambled off the floor and took off after Bellatrix. In the back of his mind, Harry heard various shouts for him to wait, for him to stop, but he ignored them all. At that moment, Harry Potter had only one purpose: find Bellatrix Lestrange.

What he would do with her once he found her, well, he could worry about that later.

The stone corridor that he was speeding down twisted and turned with scarcely a moment's notice. The torches lining the walls which gave off the little light that was available were few and far between, making Harry's flat-out run into the darkness that much more dangerous as he could barely see more than a few feet in front of his face. But the echo of Bellatrix's hurried footsteps on the cold, stone floor and the taunting refrain of her voice impelled him onward.

A sudden flash of light in the darkness was warning enough for Harry to throw himself to the ground as a spell crashed into the wall where his head had been just a moment before. Flecks of stone rained down on his back as he painfully slid to a sudden stop against the hard stone wall in yet another bend in the corridor.

"Awwww… the wittle baby fell down," shrieked the madwoman from her ambush, "let's see if we can help him get up again! _Reducto!_"

Spells began raining down upon Harry's position and he hurriedly rolled to the side, desperately trying to avoid being hit. Seeing no other option, as Bellatrix kept up her steady barrage of hexes and curses, Harry blindly pointed his wand in her general direction from his position flat on the floor and let loose with his own blasting curse.

Suddenly, the spellfire slamming into the ground all him ceased. Harry looked up in desperate hope.

_Did I actually hit her?_ Harry incredulously thought to himself, only to hear the witch's insane laughter once again.

"Hehehe, He _did_ come to play after all!" Bellatrix exclaimed from her end of the hallway. "Catch me if you can, Potty!" she yelled as she once again took off down the dark corridor.

_She's playing with me,_ Harry thought to himself, _I'll teach her to bloody well play with me!_

Harry once again scrambled to his feet and took off after the mad witch. He quickly turned a corner only to see Bellatrix duck into the first doorway that they had come across and slam the door closed behind her.

"_Confringo!_" Harry screamed at the door without slowing his pursuit, causing the barrier to explode into the room in a shower of wooden splinters. Harry crossed the threshold and dove to the right, just in time to avoid a dark jet of purple light. The anger that had taken hold of him in the amphitheater made him disregard his own safety and instead he unleashed an all out assault upon his enemy.

"_Confringo! Reducto! Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!_" Harry let loose with anything and everything he could think of. Amazingly, it seemed to be working, and Bellatrix was forced onto the defensive.

Harry was so focused on his enemy that he barely noticed what was in the room around him. At first glance, the room appeared to be floating in the darkness of outer space, as thousands of tiny, bright stars shone all around. A closer inspection would reveal that the "stars" were really countless, glowing crystal pendants, each one hanging from a tiny hook on the pitch-black wall. No other source of light was found in the room besides the strange, shining crystals.

The two combatants were headless of their surroundings, however, as they continued their battle. Even though he seemed to have her on the defensive, Harry couldn't land a single spell on his opponent; she either countered his spells or dodged and twisted out of the way. Soon, the magical onslaught had the tiny, shining crystals flying and scattering throughout the room. Wherever they landed, tiny flashes of lightning sparked out, shooting brilliant flashes of light into the darkness.

"Enough of this!" screamed Bellatrix, fury overtaking the demented glee that had earlier adorned her face, "playtime is over!" With that she gestured with her wand and summoned several of the tiny, glowing crystals to herself. The crystals came together in a brightly shining ball of tiny shards that hovered before her, only to be banished with great force directly at Harry.

"_Protego!_" Harry quickly shouted, only to painfully discover that his shield had no effect whatsoever on the tiny and very sharp crystals flying straight at him. Several of the tiny missiles sliced open his arms as he instinctively covered his face, and a few even stabbed themselves into his stomach. Each impact jolted Harry with what felt like an electric charge.

With a grunt of pain, Harry clutched his now bleeding gut with his left hand as he crouched down to the floor. He looked up only to see another group of crystals floating in front of Bellatrix.

"Now it's time for the wittle baby to be _punished_! _Depulso_!" and with that, another round of razor-sharp crystals were sent flying toward Harry.

Seeing as his shield proved to be of no use against these missiles, Harry desperately cast a hurried blasting curse at the center of the group coming his way, hoping to disperse them or deflect them.

He did not, however, expect the violent explosion that resulted.

With a blinding, white light and a terrifying blast, Harry found himself thrown, arse over teakettle, and slammed head first into the wall behind him. Meanwhile, Bellatrix, who in the course of the engagement had maneuvered herself to have her back to the doorway, found herself thrown out into the hallway and landed in a heap by the opposite wall.

For what seemed like a few seconds, Harry could hear nothing but silence as dust tumbled down from the ceiling in the aftermath of the explosion. The silence gave way to a high-pitched ringing as it became evident that the blast was too much for Harry's ears to bear. He groaned in pain as he tried to sit up, only to see the room spinning around him, and then promptly fell back to the floor. He desperately groped about him, blindly hoping to locate his wand in case Bellatrix renewed her assault.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Harry found his wand, miraculously it was unharmed, and he somehow managed to make the world stop spinning. He was surprised that during this time he was not subject to a renewed barrage of curses, but peering through the ruined doorway, Harry saw no sign of Bellatrix other than a small smear of blood on the wall and a slightly larger pool gathered on the floor.

_She must've run off again. Great. Bloody well fantastic!_ Harry cursed in his head. With a groan, he somehow managed to get to his feet, intending to take off after his foe once again. However, he was stopped short by the sight of a figure he found lying on the floor in the middle of the room.

There, in front of him on the floor in the midst of what would have been the blinding ball of magic that exploded as a result of Harry's spell crashing into the group of flying crystals, was the body of a man.

He looked like some sort of medieval knight, lying face down on the floor, covered head to toe in shiny, metal, plate armor. On his left forearm was strapped a circular shield, polished so brightly that it could have easily been mistaken for a mirror. A few inches from his right hand laid a large, ornate looking sword. The knight wore no helm, which allowed Harry to see his short-cropped, gray hair.

Harry, his mouth falling open in surprise, stared at the man in a moment of confusion. _I must've hit my head bloody hard_, he thought to himself, _now I'm seeing things_.

In that moment, the knight moved with surprising quickness for someone covered almost completely in metal. His right hand grasped the hilt of his sword as he lurched to the side and rolled to his knees. The knight appeared to be around fifty years old. A short, graying goatee matched the hair on his head, and few small, faded scars marred his otherwise handsome features. One particularly noticeable scar cut across the bridge of the man's slightly crooked nose. It seemed that the man's brown eyes quickly took in Harry's shell-shocked state. His mouth opened in what Harry assumed to be speech, but the ringing in Harry's ears from the blast made any attempt at communication in that moment pointless.

Overcoming his moment of confusion, Harry growled out, "I don't have time for this! She's getting away!" and with that, he ran through the door with renewed vigor in pursuit of his enemy without sparing another thought for the strange newcomer.

Once more in the dark and winding stone corridor, Harry took off in the direction that he and Bellatrix had originally been heading in the hope of finding her once again. He kept to the hallway, deciding not to veer off into any of the closed doors that he passed by, lest he get lost in the maze of mysterious rooms and corridors. He could only hope that Bellatrix had made the same decision.

After a few moments, Harry could finally see an end to the corridor up ahead. It looked like the stone wall at the end of the hallway had been blasted apart to make an exit. Multicolored lights flashed back and forth from the opening, and the ringing in Harry's ears began to fade just in time to be replaced with the cries of shouted spell incantations. Harry ran full speed toward the opening and emerged in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, only to find Dumbledore locked in furious combat with both Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort himself.

"Your little schoolboy is dead!" Bellatrix shouted at the aged headmaster as they traded spells, heedless of Harry's emergence onto the scene, "I left him in a pile of blood and broken bones back in the Department of Mysteries!"

"How's this for a pile of bones, you bitch?!" Harry screamed in his rage. "_Reducto!_"

His spell took the insane witch by surprise as it slammed into her shoulder. With a high-pitched yelp, Bellatrix spun around and went crashing to the floor.

Only then, with Bellatrix writhing in agony, did Harry truly register the fact that the Dark Lord was present in the room.

"Well done, Harry," sneered the high-pitched voice of Voldemort, "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Go to hell, you bastard!" Harry shouted as he leveled his wand at the Dark Lord and began furiously casting.

"You can't win here, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly as he continued to engage Voldemort at a lightning-fast pace. "Give up. You're outnumbered and outmatched."

"I am Lord Voldemort!" returned the snake-like being with a crazed gleam in his eye, "I cannot be defeated!" And with that, he unleashed a wave of concussive force that lifted both Harry and Dumbledore off their feet and tossed them tumbling through the air.

Harry landed awkwardly on his left arm, and felt as well as heard a bone snap somewhere near his wrist. Dumbledore seemed to somehow manage to keep his feet, and hastily erected a shield between Harry and Voldemort.

"I am the greatest wizard to ever walk the earth!" exclaimed the Dark Lord as he continued spinning and flicking his wand in intricate and exact movements, "you maggots are nothing to me. _Nothing!_"

"Harry! Get out of here!" Dumbledore shouted to the prostrate student. The effort of trying to both protect Harry while at the same time engaging Voldemort was clearly putting the headmaster at a disadvantage in the fight. But Harry paid his mentor no mind as saw Bellatrix once again moving, trailing a steady stream of blood toward the row of fireplaces that would give her access to the Floo Network and freedom.

As Harry was trying to bring his wand around to prevent Bellatrix's escape, the sickly, yellow beam of a Cruciatus Curse from Voldemort's wand found him instead. Blinding, white-hot agony exploded into Harry's mind. The intense pain lasted only an instant, as Voldemort quickly lifted the curse in order to fend off Dumbledore's next attack, but its effects remained. Harry could do little else but helplessly curl up on the floor, twitching in pain, and watch as Bellatrix disappeared in a flash of green flame.

It seemed to Harry that Voldemort's eyes lit up in triumph as he realized that Dumbledore would be unable to effectively both protect Harry and continue their duel at the same time. Harry could do nothing but watch in despair as it only took the Dark Lord a few moments to maneuver Dumbledore to his advantage. The furious spell casting came to an abrupt halt as bright green chains wrapped themselves around the headmaster's torso and bound his arms to his sides.

Voldemort laughed and bowed grandiosely. "At last… at last I shall put you both where you belong."

Just as Voldemort was pointing his wand at the helpless figure of Harry Potter, lying bleeding and broken on the ground, his attention was diverted by a cry coming from the hole blasted in the stone wall. With a loud shout, the old knight leaped into the atrium, his mirrored shield held steadily in front of him and his sword brandished over head. Without pausing or slowing his momentum, the armored knight gestured with his sword in Dumbledore's direction and the chains that held the headmaster captive shattered with a flash of white light.

With a cry of fury, Voldemort turned the attention of his wand toward the newcomer. A red jet of light was sent barreling toward him, only to strike his shield and be deflected off into the ceiling where it exploded in a shower of dust and broken stone.

Dumbledore quickly took advantage of the situation and renewed his assault upon the Dark Lord, transfiguring the floor stones around Voldemort's feet into quicksand.

While the wizards turned their attention and their wands to each other once more, the knight took up position between Harry and Voldemort, acting as a shield against further assault.

"Can you move?" asked the knight in a firm, resolved voice.

It took Harry a moment to realize that the knight was talking to him.

"I don't know," Harry wheezed, "I think I can try."

"Make your way back into the corridor from which I emerged," said the knight in a tone that brokered no argument, "you're in no condition to continue this fight. You can find some shelter there. I'll cover your retreat."

Harry obeyed, and painfully began to crawl over to the opening that was blasted into the wall while the old knight kept his shield between Harry and the Dark Lord. A few times Voldemort tried to cast some spell in their direction, but each time the knight intercepted it with his shield and sent it ricocheting off in some other direction. Every so often, the knight would gesture with his sword like he had done earlier, and one of Voldemort's spells, curses or transfigurations would be disrupted in a flash of white light. Had he been of clearer mind, Harry would have probably wondered at the wandless magic that the knight displayed.

Once Harry reached the opening, he crawled over the blocks of ruined stone and turned his attention back to the fight. As soon as Harry had reached some modicum of cover from the battle, the old knight left his position shielding the teenager, and charged Voldemort head-on.

This tactic caught the Dark Lord by surprise, and he barely managed to avoid having his throat slashed open by the knight's sword.

"Give up, Tom," Dumbledore calmly spoke in the midst of the battle as his wand continued moving, "you've lost whatever advantage you thought you had."

"This Muggle is _nothing!_ You are _nothing_, you old fool!" the Dark Lord screamed as he continued to dodge both the knight's sword and Dumbledore's spells.

Voldemort then conjured a thick, steel shield between himself and the knight, and banished the heavy object at the old warrior with great force. The impact of the blow knocked the knight off his feet and made him fall over backwards onto the floor.

At that moment, Harry heard the sound of rushing flames, and turned to see the green fire of the Floo Network light up the far side of the atrium. Out of the fireplaces stepped several Aurors as well as Cornelius Fudge, who gaped in horror at the sight of Lord Voldemort returned from the grave.

With a last sneer of hatred, Voldemort let loose another concussive wave of force that made everyone in the room go on the defensive, and then with a deafeningly loud _crack_, disapparated, fleeing the Ministry and shattering the battered wards that were straining to survive the magical battle.

With the excitement finally over, Harry was beginning to a bit feel light headed. He heard the Minister for Magic stupidly exclaim, "He's back!" into the shocked silence that followed Voldemort's departure.

In the background, Harry could hear the sounds of Dumbledore, Fudge and the Aurors as they began hurriedly moving about the atrium, but he couldn't exactly piece together what they were doing. A sharp jolt of pain made Harry look down to his stomach to see that at some point his hands had clasped onto his gut.

"Wow," Harry said to no one in particular, "that's a lot of blood." He began to feel dizzy as he held up a red hand to get a better look. A shadow fell across his line of sight and made Harry tilt his head back a bit further in order to see the knight standing before him, sword still drawn, staring down at him with a look that could probably cut steel.

"Oo look awf'ly shinny. Did'ja know 'at?" Harry slurred to the knight.

And then, with his head falling forward, everything went black.

* * *

**AN: Well, there's chapter one of this new offering. I hope you enjoyed it. The "old knight" that I've obviously introduced to the Harry Potter universe is based upon a character from an old video game that I enjoyed many moons ago. However, I don't feel that his "world" will really impact that of Harry Potter enough to warrant labeling this as a crossover. However, if you all feel that I should change the labeling to a crossover, let me know, and I will take it under advisement. Anything that you need to know about him will be explained in due time. Although if someone can figure out who/what he's based off of from the little information given in this first chapter, I'll give you a cookie. I suppose that I might need to include his origins in the disclaimer in future chapters, but for now, in order to keep his identity more **_**mysterious**_**, I'll leave it off. Please don't sue me for this. **

**This OC will be a major recurring character for the story. However, I anticipate him being the only major OC that you'll have to get used to.**

**I think it's safe for everyone reading to assume that since this clearly starts during Harry's fifth year during the battle in the Department of Mysteries, most of the canon Harry Potter events that took place before this chapter and are found in the first five Harry Potter books remain in effect. However, this is an AU story, changes will likely come up and any relevant changes to the storyline or timeline will be revealed as the plot progresses.**

**This story will at no point feature any type of slash.**

**Updates will come as I find the time to write them.**

**Thanks to all the authors on this site whose works I have enjoyed for many years. You make the world a more interesting and entertaining place.**

**Please leave a review on your way out and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**


	2. II

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

**AN: There's some strong language in this chapter. I think it still falls within the T rating, but if you disagree, let me know and I'll consider changing the rating to M.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

II

With a muffled groan, Harry Potter once again became aware of the world. With his eyes still closed, he found that he was lying down on a firm mattress and that the sharp odor of cleaning chemicals hung in the air.

_Looks like I'm in the hospital wing_, Harry thought to himself, _why am I here this time?_

The dryness in his mouth and throat was the next thing to really register in his somewhat confused mind. He let out a dry, rough cough that stung his throat. Before he even thought of searching for something to drink, a straw was placed up against his lips, and Harry took a long pull of cool, refreshing water. Only then did he open his eyes.

The blur that he found sharpened into the familiar features of the Hogwarts hospital wing as someone perched his glasses on his nose. Harry turned his head to the left to discover that someone was one Luna Lovegood.

"Hello Harry," Luna said in her dreamy voice, "it's good to have you back. We were worried that the Nargles would keep you for a while yet."

Harry simply stared at the wide-eyed blonde for a moment before asking, "Luna, how did I… why am I here?"

"Well, Harry," Luna replied in a tone that Harry thought she might use for addressing very small children, "when a mommy loves a daddy very much, and if she doesn't have a headache at the time, and if she hasn't misplaced the key to her chastity belt, then they do what comes natural, just like the birds and the bees do. Although, now that you mention it, I never really understood why the birds and the bees would want to have sex with each other, especially since some birds eat bees. I wonder if it's normal to kill and eat your potential mates…"

"What?" replied Harry, "what are you…? No, not that, I mean, why am I in the hospital wing?"

"Oh, well that makes much more sense. You're here because you almost died in the Department of Mysteries of course."

Harry drew his eyebrows together in puzzlement for a moment, trying to make sense of Luna's statement and the jumble of hazy memories in his head.

And then it all became clear.

Flying to the Ministry.

The Death Eater ambush in the Hall of Prophecies.

Furious spell casting and desperate chases.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

Sirius…

"Oh Merlin… Sirius…" Harry breathed out as his eyes began to fill. He felt Luna reach out and clasp his hand. Harry squeezed his eyes tightly shut, not wanting her to see him cry, but a few errant tears escaped down his cheeks nonetheless. Luna remained quiet, simply allowing Harry the time he needed to shed his tears for his godfather.

_Sirius, I'm so sorry._

After a few short moments of silent crying, Harry wrenched his hand out of Luna's, a sudden anger overtaking his sadness. With a sniff he wiped his face and cast a glance around the rest of the hospital wing.

"What about the others?" Harry asked. "Where's Hermione and Ron?"

Luna didn't respond, but rather glanced down to the other end of the hospital wing where two separate beds were curtained off from prying eyes. Her eyes then returned to Harry.

"Neville and Ginny are sitting with them. Neville had it pretty rough for a little while, what with his being put under the Cruciatus Curse and all, but he's feeling much better now. Madam Pomfrey thinks Ron will be alright once he wakes up, but doesn't really know when that will be. Hermione…"

Luna's soft voice trailed off as she once again glanced at one of the curtained-off beds and something clenched in Harry's chest.

"What about Hermione?" Harry insisted.

"I'm sorry, Harry, things don't look very good."

Harry took a moment to really look at Luna. For the first time he could remember, the dreamy, unaffected appearance was missing from her face. It was her eyes, he decided, there were tears in her eyes.

Tears for Hermione.

Harry's mind went back to the Department of Mysteries. _Dolohov's wand slashing through the air as it unleashed a bright purple flame. That violet fire striking Hermione across the chest. Her mouth forming a quiet little "oh" of seeming comprehension before she collapsed to the floor in a silent, unmoving heap…_

Harry quickly sat up in his bed and threw off the thin sheet that was pulled up to his armpits. He ignored the sharp pain in his stomach as he swung his legs around and placed his bare feet on the cold tile floor. With a new sense of determination in his movements, Harry pushed himself to his feet, only to find the room beginning to spin around. He closed his eyes and reached out with his right hand to steady himself against the bed. He stayed like that for a moment to allow the spinning to come to a stop. And then, clad in his light blue hospital gown, Harry Potter slowly shuffled over to the curtained off bed that Luna had glanced at.

When he arrived, Harry pulled back the curtain to find a sad scene. Madam Pomfrey was in the midst of a whispered but serious conversation with Professors Flitwick and Sprout at the far side of the enclosure. Sitting in a chair and looking very tired was Neville Longbottom. His hair was in complete disarray and dried blood stained the front of his shirt. He was paler than normal, with deep, dark circles beneath his eyes. But Harry's eyes only dimly registered these details as he stared at Hermione.

Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her generation, was lying pale and motionless in a hospital bed.

Her chest rose and fell at an unnaturally slow rhythm. Around her head were several dimly colored magical lights, no doubt conjured by the matron to help diagnose the girl's condition.

Harry slowly approached the side of the bed and took Hermione's hand.

It was cold.

"_Mister Potter!_"

Harry dragged his attention away from Hermione to see the three adults staring at him.

"I said," began Madam Pomfrey in a stern voice, "what are you doing out of bed? Those wounds to your abdomen will never heal straight if you go moving about so soon."

Instead of replying to the matron's questions, Harry turned his eyes back to Hermione and asked, "What's wrong with her?"

In a somewhat softer tone, Pomfrey replied, "We're not really sure. We can't seem to identify the spell which struck the poor girl."

"When is she going to get better?"

The only thing that met this question was silence.

"I said," Harry began more forcefully, "_when_ is she going to _get better?!_"

"Mister Potter… Harry," began Madam Pomfrey, "we're doing everything that we can, but we just don't know what's causing the problem. We've been able to slow the progression of the curse and the damage that it's causing to her internally, but without knowing exactly what is causing it in the first place, well, we're at a bit of a loss as to what to do next."

"It was a purple flame," replied Harry. "A purple flame cast with a slashing motion, it hit her diagonally across the chest."

"We know, Harry," said Professor Sprout in a soft voice, "Neville already told us."

"So you'll figure it out, right? You'll be able to stop the curse; you'll be able to fix her, right?"

Once again, Harry's questions were met with silence.

Harry hastily dropped Hermione's hand as if stung. He squeezed his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists as anger once again filled him. His whole body filled with tension.

"Mister Potter, please, you need to return to your bed…"

Harry spun on his heel to face the opening in the curtain. He was met by Luna and Ginny, who had obviously come to see what all the commotion was about. Harry pushed his way between the two girls and began making his way toward the doors of the hospital wing. He would have broken into a run, but the sharp pain in his abdomen wouldn't let him.

Just then the doors opened, and in strode Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor!" shouted Harry, irrational hope filling him at the sight of the aged headmaster, "thank Merlin! You'll be able to fix her, right? Please tell me you know what to do."

Dumbledore looked down at his student with a faint, sad smile on his lips.

"Harry, it's going to be alright."

"I don't care if it's going to be alright!" screamed Harry, as he continued along his emotional rollercoaster and anger filled him once more, "I want somebody to fix her!"

"I assure you, we're doing everything we can to…"

"But there's got to be something else," Harry began pleading, "this is Hermione! She has to be okay. She… it's… not her too. She can't die too."

The old headmaster approached and put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Harry…"

"Don't touch me!" Harry exclaimed as he violently pushed the old man's hand away as the anger came back again. "Do something useful! _Fix Hermione!_ Why won't you do something useful? Why don't you _ever_ do anything useful?! All you ever do is speak in riddles and avoid giving straight answers. You've been avoiding me all year when I needed your help. Now Hermione needs you, and what? Are you just going to ignore her too? Do something, you bloody bastard! For once in your damn life, _do something_!"

All eyes in the hospital wing were staring at Harry in the wake of his outburst. All eyes, that is, except for the two that Harry wanted to see open more than just about anything at that moment. But Hermione's eyes remained closed as she laid in her cold, motionless oblivion.

Not wanting to be around anyone anymore, and hating the way their eyes stared at him in shock, Harry resumed his motion toward the exit. He threw open the door, slamming it loudly against the stone wall and made his way out of the hospital wing. He had to just get away from it all.

"Bloody, fucking Dumbledore," Harry seethed as he wound his way through the castle, heedless of any sort of direction, or the fact that he was only wearing a hospital gown, not that he really cared. "Bloody Pomfrey… fucking Sprout… useless, the lot of them… can't even figure out one damned curse."

Harry stopped and suddenly changed direction, deciding to head up to the Astronomy Tower. Hopefully he could get some air up there. Or maybe just scream at the sky until his lungs gave out. Within a few minutes, he was trudging up the stairs at as fast a pace as the pain in his stomach would let him. He didn't really care about the now constant, sharp pain that emanated from his abdomen. All he really cared about in that moment was his anger.

"Fucking Bellatrix Lestrange. Bloody Dolohov and his bloody curse. It's their fault. They did this to Hermione. I'm going to kill them. I'm going to kill them all. Every last bloody Death Eater, I'm going to kill them all."

At last, his anger had worked itself into a rage as Harry reached the top of the tower. He threw open the door and stepped out onto the roof. But to his surprise, he was not alone.

Standing at the far end of the tower, gazing up at the night sky with his hands clasped behind his back was the figure of a man. The sound of the door slamming against the wall drew his attention to Harry. His head snapped over to regard the newcomer, while his hand went to the hilt of the sword strapped to his hip.

Harry didn't recognize this strange person at first. Besides the sword, he was wearing some sort of wide, metal collar over his dark blue but rather nondescript clothing. The collar extended down a few inches to cover some of his upper chest and back. Attached to the collar were two other pieces of armor that covered his shoulders. His short, gray hair and matching goatee framed a handsome face marred by several old scars. Brown eyes peered at Harry with steely intelligence, seeming to take him in all at once, and measure him against some unknown standard.

In the end, it was the sword that betrayed the man's identity to Harry.

_It's the old knight_, Harry thought to himself, _Great_. The memories of his chase and battle with Bellatrix came back to him: the old knight appearing in a brilliant explosion of magic; his coming to the rescue during the duel with Voldemort, saving the day. This old man probably saved Dumbledore's life as well as Harry's own.

But honestly, Harry really didn't care.

"Great! Bloody well fantastic! I can't even get some bloody space to myself to rant and rave and scream at the sky! What the hell are you doing here, anyways? Don't you have a damsel to be rescuing somewhere?"

The old man just raised one eyebrow and continued to regard Harry in silence.

"Typical," continued Harry, "just stand there and stare at me like all the other bloody idiots downstairs. They can't do anything either… useless, the lot of them… just like bloody useless Lestrange. I'm going to kill that bitch when I find her."

Harry paced back and forth on the rooftop, ranting and raving in his rage and anger, almost oblivious to the presence of the old knight watching him.

"I'll make her pay. I'll make Dolohov pay. I'll kill them if Hermione dies. I'll kill them for taking her away from me…"

As Harry continued his diatribe against anything and everything that came to mind, the demeanor of the old knight shifted.

"What's this you speak about someone dying?" the knight asked.

Harry stopped and spun on his heel, facing the man.

"What do you care?" Harry spit out venomously, "Why would you give a damn about my friend, lying on her death bed downstairs because some areshole put her there? Bloody Death Eaters curse a sixteen year old girl an inch from death just because she followed me to the Ministry…

"_Oh_ _God_…"

Harry gasped and leaned against the parapet, his rage evaporated only to be replaced by despair.

"She's going to die because of me. She followed me there, even though she knew it was a trap. It's my fault. It's all my fault… Sirius… Hermione… dead because of me…"

Tears began to fill Harry's eyes once again, but he was quickly distracted by the two strong hands that gripped his shoulders and shook him.

"Look at me," said the old knight in a voice that spoke with authority. He moved his hands up to hold the sides of Harry's head and looked him in the face. "Snap out of it and look at me!"

Harry quit fighting and looked into the intense brown eyes of the old man's face, just a foot or two away from his own.

"Who's dying?" queried the knight.

"Hermione," answered Harry, "my friend Hermione. She was cursed in the battle, and the Healers don't know how to help her. She's going to die."

"Take me to her," ordered the knight.

But Harry didn't respond; he was once again beginning to gaze off into the distance, wrapped up in his own emotions.

"Boy! _Snap out of it!_" said the knight more forcefully and with an added little shake that managed to recapture Harry's attention. "Take me to your friend this instant."

Harry was confused, dumbfounded really. But the tone with which the old man spoke brokered no argument, so Harry found himself complying with the order he was given. He turned and led the knight down the stairs and back through the castle toward the hospital wing. The two figures walked in silence, except for the occasional hiss of pain that emerged from between Harry's lips. There really didn't seem to be anything to say.

Harry reentered the hospital wing a few minutes later with his new companion in tow to find Dumbledore in the midst of a serious discussion with Pomfrey, Flitwick, Sprout and Snape, who seemed to have come onto the scene during Harry's brief absence.

"I must notify her parents," Dumbledore was saying as they entered the room, "they should really be here should the worst…"

These words stopped Harry in his tracks.

_It's my fault that she's going to die_.

But the old knight didn't pause in his stride, but only continued forward to address the aged wizard.

"Headmaster."

"Sir Keldorn," replied Dumbledore, "what brings you to our hospital wing this evening? Is there something you need?"

"No," said the knight, "I thought I might be able to offer my assistance. This boy happened upon me and I learned of his injured friend. He said she was cursed and dying. What is the nature of her ailment?"

"I seriously doubt that a dressed up Muggle like you has anything to offer in the healing of a witch, no matter how polished your choice of clothing might be," drawled Snape before anyone else could respond.

"Peace, Severus," said Dumbledore, "we haven't been of much help ourselves. Poppy, would you please fill in our guest on the nature of Miss Granger's condition?"

"She was struck in the chest with an unknown curse by one of the Death Eaters," replied the matron. "We have been unable to identify the particular spell used, but it appeared to be a purple flame that slashed across her chest. The curse passed through her clothing without disruption and caused no damage to her skin or muscle tissue. But underneath, it has been severely damaging her internal organs. We've managed to slow the effects of the curse and have kept her breathing and her blood flowing with charms, but if it isn't reversed soon, her organs will begin to fail. We've sent for assistance from St. Mungo's and were just about to notify the girl's parents when you walked in."

"Take me to her," said the knight, "I may be able to help. I can, at the very least, try."

With a skeptical look, Pomfrey led the knight to Hermione's curtained off beside. The other professors came behind and Harry followed last. Inside the private area, Luna and Neville were sitting to one side of the bed, seemingly surprised by the presence of the knight, or perhaps it was at Harry's sudden return. Harry noticed that Ginny was missing, but assumed that she was sitting with her still unconscious brother.

Keldorn unsheathed his sword only to be pounced upon by Madam Pomfrey, "Now see here! I don't know what you were thinking when you said you could _help_, but I assure you, your barbaric _weapons_ won't be doing any _helping_ in my infirmary!"

"Peace, Madam," replied the knight with a tinge of amusement in his voice, "I mean no harm. The sword of a paladin is not merely an instrument of war. And _Carsomyr_ is no mere sword. You have my word that I will not harm the girl with my _barbaric_ weapon."

With that, he grasped the blade with both hands near the hilt, and held it so that the tip was pointed down to the floor. The knight then tilted the handle in Hermione's direction and there was a small but brilliant flash of light. Harry, as well as everyone else present save for the old knight, squinted and instinctively looked away.

Harry turned to see Ginny now standing at his side, taking in the strange scene. He turned back a moment later to see the knight sheath his sword and approach the bed.

Gingerly sitting on the side of the bed near Hermione's shoulder, the knight placed his hands on her head, closed his eyes, and slightly bowed as if in prayer.

Suddenly Hermione gasped for breath, and drew in a great lungful of air. Her back arched off the bed for an instant as if she was in pain. Harry was about to lunge forward and pry the old man off of his friend when Dumbledore's hand stopped him.

A moment later the old man was back on his feet, but he now seemed a little dizzy with one hand raised to his temple. Hermione was once again lying still on the bed. Harry darted forward past Dumbledore and grabbed for Hermione's hand.

It was warm.

Harry stared, eyes almost popping out of his head at his best friend who was supposed to be lying on death's doorstep. It seemed to him that her breathing had become more normal, and that some color had returned to her face.

"Out of my way!" spoke Madam Pomfrey as she pushed her way to Hermione's bedside, her wand already moving in intricate patterns. "Everybody out this instant! I need to see to her."

Harry was about to argue when a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned to see the old knight.

"Come, boy, she'll be alright. I give you my word."

As everyone filed out of the curtained off area, Harry found his voice, "I don't understand. How did you…?"

"The blessings of the Light have been entrusted to me to dispense as I can. It is part of my sacred task to bring healing to those in need, especially to those injured in the fight against the Darkness. But it was not really I who worked this miracle. I merely allowed the Grace of the Light to work through me."

"What? That's nonsense," interrupted Snape, "You clearly cast some sort of wandless spell. There's no sense in trying to spin your tales of miracles and Grace and other ridiculous hogwash. Stop trying to sound mysterious and tell us, _what did you do_?"

"I do not appreciate being called a liar," replied the old knight, standing a bit straighter with his hand once again resting on the hilt of his sword, "especially when I have given you no cause to do so."

"Why you…"

"Peace!" interrupted Dumbledore, "peace, please! Severus, it seems to me that we should be thanking our guest for his priceless assistance in tending to Miss Granger. I do not doubt that without him here, things would still be looking quite grim right now. Sir Keldorn, you once again have my thanks, and the thanks of all Hogwarts for what you have done today."

The knight bowed his head and shoulders in acknowledgement of Dumbledore's words and then relaxed his posture. Snape, on the other hand, looked as though he had eaten something rather sour.

The emotional toll of the past hour suddenly began to press down upon Harry and he found that he was quite exhausted.

"And if I may say so, Harry," continued the headmaster, "I would like to see you back in bed, if not for your own sake, then for the rest of us. Madam Pomfrey will be quite put out with us if she were to have one patient miraculously recovery only to have another collapse on his own two feet and do more damage to his already serious wounds."

Harry made to protest but Dumbledore cut him off, "And don't fret, we will talk soon, as soon as you've recovered enough strength to do so. I promise."

And so, with one last, long look in Hermione's direction, Harry found himself heading back to his hospital bed. He really didn't have the energy to fight about it and thus acquiesced without further argument.

A few moments later, after several hushed words, the adults, including the knight whom Harry now knew to be called Sir Keldorn, left the hospital wing to go about their business.

A short while later, Madam Pomfrey approached Harry's bedside with a Sleeping Draught.

"Alright, Mister Potter, bottoms up."

Harry took the goblet without a fuss, but before downing the undoubtedly foul and horrid tasting potion, he asked, "Is Hermione really going to be alright?"

Pomfrey's lips quirked up in a slight smile as she said, "Yes, Mister Potter. Whatever that man did has worked a true miracle on Miss Granger's condition. In a few days time I dare say she will be right as rain."

* * *

**AN: Please let me know whether or not you think the language is too strong for a T rating. It seems like a fuzzy line to me.**

**Kudos to David Marple for correctly guessing our knight's identity. Or perhaps I should say for guessing the character that Keldorn is based upon. I've had to make some changes to him for things to work.**

**Please leave a review on your way out. I'd like some feedback on this and want to know what you all think, even if it's just "Good story, write more," or "You suck, knights are stoopid."**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. III

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

III

The next morning, Harry was able to convince Madam Pomfrey to release him before Ron or Hermione regained consciousness and also before Luna, Neville, Ginny or anyone else for that matter, thought to come and pay a visit.

After he had changed out of his hospital gown and into some of his normal clothes, Harry was making his way out of the infirmary when he saw another occupied bed near the door. In his frenzied and chaotic state the night before, Harry never even noticed that someone else had been injured in all the fighting and admitted to Hogwarts' medical wing. The sight at first made his blood run cold as his mind quickly ran through the most likely candidates to be lying motionless in one of Madam Pomfrey's sickbeds.

_Hermione and Ron are already here, _thought Harry,_ Luna, Neville and Ginny were released last night. It could be Lupin or Moody, Tonks or Shacklebolt. Surely Dumbledore wouldn't have brought any of the injured Death Eaters back to the school for treatment. _

Then his eyes widened as a new thought struck him.

_Maybe he didn't die, maybe they found Sirius and they brought him back…_

With a new sense of energy coursing through him, Harry hurried over to see just who was lying in the bed in question. His hopes were dashed, however, when he discovered the squat figure and toad-like face of Deloris Umbridge.

"Bitch…" Harry whispered to no one in particular. Umbridge was unconscious, unaware of her angry visitor. For a moment, Harry couldn't think of why Umbridge would need to be recovering in the hospital wing, but then he remembered the centaurs carrying her off to who knows where.

"They should've killed you," Harry spat at the unconscious witch, "you don't deserve to be here when Sirius isn't."

With that, Harry left the hospital wing and made his way to Gryffindor Tower. It was still pretty early in the morning, and he managed to make his way up to his dorm room without running into anyone, a fact that Harry was very grateful for. He went to his trunk, and so as not to disturb his slumbering roommates, silently rifled through its contents in search of two particular items. Once he found his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map, Harry quietly made his way out of the dorm and exited Gryffindor Tower.

He made his way to the Great Hall, hoping to grab a quick bite to eat without running into anyone he knew. He was just placing a few pieces of toast into a napkin to be carried off elsewhere when an unwelcome voice addressed him from behind.

"Potter," began the oily drawl of Harry's least favorite professor, "the headmaster desires to speak with you. You are to make your way to his office at your earliest convenience."

Harry simply turned and glared at Snape for a moment before nodding his head in silent acknowledgement of the message before turning back to gathering his toast.

With a dramatic swirl of his cloak, Snape left the Gryffindor table. Harry followed suit a few minutes later, albeit in the opposite direction, leaving the Great Hall and the interior of the castle altogether.

He made the long trek to the far side of the lake before throwing his cloak over his head and sitting down to eat his meager breakfast. Harry stayed in that spot for several hours. He passed the time by either staring out at the lake and the castle beyond, or watching the various members of the population of Hogwarts go about their business on the Marauder's Map.

He noticed the new name 'Keldorn Firecam' on the map a couple of times and assumed it to be the old knight that he kept running into. Once, Keldorn was in the Headmaster's office along with Dumbledore, and another time Harry found him near the Gamekeeper's hut along with Hagrid.

Harry also noted that 'Hermione Granger' and 'Ronald Weasley' stayed put in their places in the hospital wing.

He found Neville and Ginny visiting the hospital wing and its current occupants, and it seemed that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had also made the trip to Hogwarts to visit their injured son.

Luna seemed to occupy her time walking in circles around the Whomping Willow or hiking through the edges of the Forbidden Forest.

Glancing upon names like Malfoy or Umbridge often served to ignite Harry's capricious anger, at which point he would throw down the map and stare out at the lake. In his calmer moments, Harry was curious as to how the mere thought of such loathsome people could now drive him into a rage. Malfoy was definitely a git, and Umbridge was just about as bad as they came, but the mere thought of them had never garnered such a reaction from him before.

It was well past lunchtime when Harry finally stirred himself from his position and made his way back toward the castle. He had no real desire to meet with the Headmaster, but he knew that there was no way that he could put the meeting off for long. Harry was sure that Dumbledore could find him no matter where he tried to hide if the Headmaster really wished to do so.

And so, as the hour was nearing dinnertime, Harry found himself removing his invisibility cloak as he stood before the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Harry scratched his head, at a loss for what the password might be when the statue simply moved aside.

Apparently he was expected.

The rotating stairway delivered Harry to the inner doorway, which was already open. Harry slowly walked into the room to find a serene Albus Dumbledore seated behind his desk with elbows resting on the tabletop among the many oddly shaped silver instruments which were spinning and twirling in every direction while simultaneously emitting strange noises and puffs of multicolored smoke. The old man's fingers were tented before his chin.

"Harry, my boy," began the Headmaster with a kind smile, "do come in and have a seat. Would you like a lemon drop?"

No mention of Harry's delay in answering his summons was made.

"No, thanks," replied Harry as he took his seat in the large armchair across the desk from one of the world's most famous and powerful wizards. Harry simply stared at the Headmaster in silence.

The silent staring contest went on for a few moments before Dumbledore finally broke, "I asked you here today to talk about what happened at the Ministry yesterday."

At this, Harry's eyes left the old wizard in favor of examining the floor.

"I figured you might have some questions for me. Or perhaps you just might want to talk about what happened."

"What's there to talk about?" Harry questioned with some heat in his voice, "I stupidly led my friends into a deathtrap. Now Hermione and Ron are lying in the hospital wing and Sirius is…" Harry's voice trialed off as his throat closed up. "I don't think there's much to talk about."

"Harry, what happened yesterday was not your fault…"

"Save it!" interjected Harry, "I don't want to hear it."

"Voldemort has fooled many…"

"I said _save it!_" erupted Harry, rising to his feet. "I don't want to hear it!"

Dumbledore fell silent and resumed staring at his student as Harry fumed, breathing heavily. A few moments later, Harry slowed his breathing and retook his seat.

"Well then," started Dumbledore, "what would you like to hear?"

"You're the one who asked for me to come up here. You tell me."

The old Headmaster let out a longsuffering sigh and removed his half-moon spectacles with his right hand.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I truly am. If I could take back what happened yesterday I would. If I could undo this entire past year I would. But, alas, such things are beyond even my capabilities. I believe I have failed you this past year more times than I can really count, and for that I am truly sorry."

Harry just remained silent, staring down at his own hands clasped in his lap. The silence stretched on, broken only by the noises made by the Headmaster's ridiculous silver instruments. With no response forthcoming from Harry, Dumbledore moved on.

"I thought you might want to know about the prophecy that you retrieved from the Department of Mysteries."

At this, Harry's head snapped up and he looked intently into the old wizard's eyes.

"You once asked me why Voldemort came after you on that Halloween night so many years ago." Harry's heart began racing as Dumbledore continued, "Well, I believe the answer is found within the prophecy that you retrieved but ultimately lost last night."

"But it was destroyed," responded Harry.

"Well," replied Dumbledore, "there just so happens to be another copy of this particular prophecy. Would you like to hear it? You, above all, have the right to know what it contains."

Harry simply nodded his head, and Dumbledore waved his wand to summon his Pensieve, which in turn floated over to land upon the desk between Harry and the professor. Several of the silver instruments scurried out of the way on their own.

"Before I show this to you, Harry, I just want to say once more that I am utterly and truly sorry." And with that, Dumbledore tapped the surface of the silvery liquid in the Pensieve with the tip of his wand.

An ethereal, miniature version of Professor Trelawney emerged from the Pensieve and began to speak in a deep, ominous voice.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for in this world such Light and Darkness cannot both long survive... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."_

As the figure of Trelawney sank back into the Pensieve, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists.

"You knew," Harry growled out between clenched teeth, more as a statement than a question.

"Yes," replied the old man in a weary voice.

"How long?"

"Professor Trelawney fell into a trance and spoke that prophecy to me during a job interview shortly before you were born. A spy managed to obtain the first two lines of the prophecy and reported them back to Voldemort. That is why he attacked you as a child. But he has never learned the rest of its contents, and his desire to do so led to last night's chain of events."

Harry simply remained silent as he processed this new information. The last day and a half had been nothing but a series of blows to the fifteen year-old boy, one after another, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to this.

"It may be of interest to note that you were not the only possible child that the prophecy might have referred to." Once again Harry's eyes met the Headmaster's. "Your friend Neville Longbottom was born the day before you were, and as such, could have been the subject of the prophecy. It is why his parents were attacked by the Lestranges as they were. It is also the reason why you've had to return to Privet Drive every summer. I was able to extend the protection that your mother's sacrifice gave you by tying it to the blood of her sister, your Aunt Petunia. The wards this magic created kept away any Death Eaters that might have come after you, as they came after the Longbottoms. Your return each year kept the wards charged and active."

Harry's right hand reached up to his forehead and rubbed his scar.

_Marked as his equal_, Harry thought to himself.

Once again, anger began to boil within him.

"Good," said Harry, "I'm glad it's me."

"Harry…"

"I'm glad because I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill that bastard any everyone who follows him."

"Harry," hastily interjected Dumbledore, "don't go down that road, it only…"

"_I'm going to kill them all!_" screamed Harry, leaping to his feet. "And you don't get to tell me no! You knew this the whole time, and you never said anything! You never _did_ _anything_! This entire year you've ignored me, stood by as the Toad tortured me, or pawned me off to that bastard Snape. You knew about the dreams, you knew he was after the prophecy. All it would have taken was for you to say, 'Harry, don't go to the Ministry, Voldemort needs you to steal a prophecy.' But no! You never did _one fucking thing!_"

With that, Harry spun around, picked up the armchair he had been sitting on, and threw it with all his strength against the wall where it knocked into a cabinet which in turn spilled out several unidentifiable and apparently fragile magical objects.

Harry remained still and silent for a few moments, breathing heavily and looking at the over-turned chair and the crushed and broken belongings of the Headmaster that littered the floor.

"You're just as bad as they are," Harry whispered without looking at the old wizard. "And you don't get to tell me no."

After a moment, Harry finally turned back to look at Dumbledore. Gone was the visage of the powerful, omniscient wizard and in his place sat a tired, weary old man. Tears stained his cheeks as they ran from his anguished blue eyes down into his white beard.

There didn't really seem to be anything left to say, so Harry left the office, slamming the door shut behind him. He had no idea where to go next. He wasn't hungry and had absolutely no desire to join his classmates in the Great Hall for dinner, so he once again went out onto the grounds, heading in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. He passed Hagrid's hut and stopped about twenty paces from the edge of the forest.

All of a sudden, Harry's wand was in his hand, and before he really knew what he was doing, he had pointed it at the trees and cried out, "_Reducto!_"

Harry put so much power into the spell that when it struck the base of a fifty foot tall pine tree, the bottom of the trunk exploded as if it had been hit with an artillery shell. The great tree toppled to the side and landed in the clearing before the forest with a thunderous crash. The effort of putting so much power into a single spell left Harry bent over with his hands on his knees, panting for breath.

"Blimey, Harry," the surprised voice of Hagrid came from behind and to Harry's left, "what'd yeh go an' do tha' fer?"

"Don't ask, Hagrid," the now weary young man replied, "just don't ask."

"Alright Harry, alright. No harm done. But yeh can't jus' go about blowin' up them trees like tha'. Yeh could'a hurt someone."

Harry straightened up and closed his eyes.

"I won't do it again."

Without another word, Harry wandered off, leaving the Gamekeeper puzzled. Harry drifted aimlessly for a while, not bothering to keep track of the time, until well after darkness had fallen. He pulled out the Marauder's Map once more and a quick promise to do no good had him once again looking after the occupants of the castle.

Dumbledore was in his office, pacing back and forth.

Keldorn was at the top of the Astronomy Tower, standing motionless.

Harry discovered that Professor McGonagall had returned to the castle and was walking through the halls, likely on patrol for students out past curfew.

Hermione and Ron hadn't moved from their places in the hospital wing.

With a sigh, Harry cleared the map and put it away. He then ducked under his cloak and began the long trek back to Gryffindor Tower. If he was lucky, he would be able to barricade himself within his four-poster bed without having to speak a word to anyone else.

OoOoO

OoOoO

The next morning, Harry once again rose early and after a brief stop in the Great Hall just long enough to steal a few pieces of toast, he once again found his way out onto the grounds. Unlike the day before, Harry was not content to sit and stare out across the lake. Instead, he found himself aimlessly wandering around the boundaries of the grounds away from everyone else. He counted himself lucky that he had no classes to attend as O.W.L.s were finished and the term would be coming to a close in just a few day's time.

Harry spent the rest of that day as well as the next few days either wandering about the grounds or sitting in some secluded spot, generally avoiding all contact with any other human beings. The little food that he ate was had either out on the grounds, like his morning toast, or taken in the kitchens by himself. Going to bed late and waking up early helped him avoid his housemates.

With ever-growing frequency Harry found himself getting angry. Sometimes the smallest things would set him off. A word or a mere thought were enough to throw him into a lather and have him ready to start cursing whatever was in range. Thankfully, he had had no further explosive outbursts since he blew up the pine tree near Hagrid's hut, but it was probably only a matter of time.

His thoughts dwelled on the battle at the Department of Mysteries, on the serious injuries that his friends had received, and on Sirius. Rather than make him sad, Harry only found anger. He wanted to break either something or someone.

Hermione and Ron were eventually released from the hospital wing. Harry knew this because they had come looking for him on the third day of his self-imposed exile from the Hogwarts community and each day thereafter. Any time he heard them coming or spotted their approach on the Marauder's Map, Harry simply slipped under his cloak and waited for them to leave.

He wasn't really sure why he was doing this, but he did it all the same.

On one such occasion, Harry was hiding under his cloak down by the lake when his two best friends walked by.

"Give it a rest, Hermione," said Ron as the two students came into view, "Harry'll show up when he's good and ready."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," replied the brown-haired girl, "we have to keep looking. We're his friends and Harry needs us."

"What Harry needs is a break from all the trouble that's nagging him."

"Oh really? Is that what I am then?" Hermione shot back as her eyes glinted dangerously. "I'm just out here to nag him and heap more trouble on his back, am I?"

"Come on, Hermione, you know I didn't mean it like that."

"Oh? Then how did you mean it? All you ever do is complain about how I _nag_ you and Harry to do your homework or finish your reading assignments. Who else am I supposed to think you're referring to when you say someone's _nagging_ Harry?"

"Just because you nag us about homework doesn't mean I'm talking about you every time I use the word, you know."

"Gah! You're such, such a… Why don't you just go back to the castle and play Exploding Snap with one of the other idiots in the common room? Get away from the big bad nag!"

Hermione then stormed off, leaving Ron standing there shell-shocked. After a few moments, Ron began moving once again, but instead of turning back to the castle, he followed after Hermione.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of the exchange, but in the end, he chose not to reveal himself to his worried best friends.

OoOoO

OoOoO

The day before the Hogwarts Express was set to leave, Professor McGonagall managed to trap Harry in the entrance hall of the castle. Harry was a bit lost in his own thoughts and reentered the castle without first concealing himself with his cloak. McGonagall was waiting for him.

"Mr. Potter," barked the stern voice of Hogwarts' Deputy Headmistress.

Harry was startled by his Head of House's appearance, but once he recovered, he simply walked over to her, resigned to whatever punishment he would receive for being out so late past curfew.

"Come with me."

Harry followed obediently as McGonagall led him through the hallways to her office. Once inside the spartan and rather sparsely decorated room, McGonagall seated herself on the hard, wooden chair behind her desk and motioned for Harry to have a seat on one of the wooden stools clearly meant for student use. Harry took his seat and simply waited for the professor to begin.

"Mr. Potter, first of all I would just like you to know that contrary to whatever you may be thinking at the moment, you are not in trouble."

This statement left Harry more confused than anything else. He drew his eyebrows together in puzzlement.

"Then why am I here?" Harry questioned.

"I am well aware of the events which took place during my absence from the school and that role that you and your friends played in them."

Mention of the battle at the Department of Mysteries, even in this cursory way, put Harry on the defensive, but he remained quiet and listened as McGonagall continued.

"For that reason, the Headmaster has asked the staff to be rather lenient with the six of you as you all deal with the repercussions of that night. As such, you are not in trouble for staying out past curfew tonight or during the past few days.

"But that is not the reason I asked to speak with you. The Headmaster believes that it would be in your best interest to stay here at the castle for the summer holidays. He has even gone so far as to preemptively obtain permission from your relatives. The decision however, is up to you. If you would prefer to return home for the summer, you may do so, but the Headmaster thought that you might prefer an alternative."

"Oh, so now he thinks it will be that easy for us to kiss and make up, does he? Just offer poor Harry a carrot and he'll be back on the Dumbledore bandwagon!" Harry replied spitefully.

"Do not take that tone with me, young man," McGonagall returned with without pause. "Whatever your quarrel with the Headmaster, you will remember your manners and show proper respect when speaking to me. Understood?"

Harry was instantly cowed by his stern Head of House.

"Yes, Professor."

"That's better."

A few moments later, Harry had another question, this one without his earlier petulance.

"What about the wards, the blood protection that needs to be renewed?"

"The Headmaster believes that you are now old enough to make your own decision as to whether or not the benefits of the wards at Privet Drive are worth the ordeal of returning there. After all, they did not prevent the events which recently took place. The wards here at the castle should be sufficient to keep you safe. Some of the staff will also be staying for the summer, Hagrid and myself included, as well as the Headmaster of course."

Harry sat and thought for a few moments. Staying at Hogwarts really was a better alternative than returning to the Dursleys. And he didn't really feel like staying at the Burrow; that just seemed, well, awkward to Harry for some reason. But did he really want to be within such close quarters with Dumbledore for the entire summer?

In the end, the decision was rather easy; Hogwarts would win out over Number Four any day of the week.

"I think I'd like that," replied Harry.

McGonagall nodded her head once, but showed no further emotion at having Harry around for the summer.

"In that case you will still reside in your dormitory in Gryffindor Tower. You may have free reign about the normal areas of the castle, but are expected to adhere to the rules, especially curfew starting tomorrow night. You must also remain within the castle grounds at all times. If you should need to leave at some point, you will need permission from either myself or the Headmaster, as well as an escort. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Professor."

All in all, Harry thought he was making out pretty well in the exchange. A summer free of the Dursleys and he would be able to use his magic since he would be on school grounds. He had no real desire to venture beyond Hogwarts' gates anyways.

"Good," replied the Deputy Headmistress. "I have one more item to discuss with you, however. Normally I would not interfere with the social life of my students, but I believe this to be a rather special case. To put it bluntly, your friends are very worried about you." Harry squirmed in his seat as McGonagall continued. "Miss Granger in particular is quite concerned. She came to me twice in the last two days, worried that she hasn't been able to find you anywhere in the castle. Might I ask why you've been avoiding them?"

Harry simply remained silent.

After a few moments, McGonagall went on, "Whatever the problem is, avoiding them is likely not the answer. You cannot run away from your problems forever, Mr. Potter."

"They'll be fine," Harry quietly responded to his Head of House without looking directly at her.

"At the very least, I think you should consider wishing them farewell tomorrow, as you won't be traveling on the train with them. I imagine that Miss Granger might become quite distraught if she were to be unable to find you. Merlin only knows what her imagination might lead her to conclude about your unexplained absence from the train."

"I…" began Harry, "could you tell them that I'm staying here for the summer for me? I just… could you? Please?"

At that, McGonagall's face softened as much as Harry had ever seen.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, just this once. But I will not have one of my lions running away from his problems forever. Whatever is off between you and your friends, I expect you to deal with it soon."

Without anything else to discuss, Harry was dismissed and returned to his dormitory for the night.

* * *

**AN: Phew! I had a lot more planned for Chapter III, but it ended up being twice as long as it should have been. I'm trying to keep the chapters within a manageable size, so I decided to split the monster. **

**Note that the exact wording of the prophecy has been changed, so if you skipped over that paragraph, go back and look again. Remember, this story is AU, so not everything is the same.**

**Thank you to all who added this to their favorites this or put it on alert. It's humbling to know that a few of you enjoy what I have to write enough to come back for more.**

**Extra special thanks to everyone who left a review. You're all wonderful.**

**Kudos to RudyHenkel for recognizing the character Keldorn Firecam from the game **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_**. If you want to know what Keldorn looks like, just Google his name and you'll find his portrait from the old video game.**

**Now for the begging. Please leave a review on your way out. I want to know what you think.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. IV

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

IV

The next morning, Harry decided against saying goodbye to his friends, relying instead on McGonagall's promise to let them know that he would be staying at Hogwarts for the summer. Harry watched from underneath his invisibility cloak as the students left for Hogsmeade Station. Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna and Ginny took the last carriage after waiting around the entire morning. Harry caught Hermione grumbling as Ron and Ginny finally convinced her to get into the cart.

"I'm going to burn that cloak of his when I finally see him," Harry thought he heard her say.

Later that afternoon, Harry was walking along the border of the Forbidden Forest toward Hagrid's hut, when a figure stepped into view in front of him. It was the old knight, with his sword belted to his side and his armored collar and a few other pieces of metal strapped to his neck and shoulders. Harry got the feeling that the knight had come looking just for him.

"Well met," began the knight. "This is the third time we have come across one another, and yet we have not been introduced. I am Sir Keldorn Firecam, paladin and Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. Who might you be?"

"What do you care?" Harry replied in annoyance. "Can't you see that I'd rather not be bothered?"

"Do the elders on the world not bother to teach proper courtesy to the young?"

"Oh, well, I wouldn't want to be _rude_, now would I? I'm Harry James Potter," he replied in a tone clearly meant to mock the old knight's own introduction, "student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Fate's all-around bitch. Happy?"

The old knight pursed his lips as he continued to study Harry.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll continue with what I was doing," said the young wizard.

With that, Harry resumed his walk and quickly passed his unwelcome visitor. The old knight's next words, however, stopped him in his tracks.

"I saw what you did the other day."

Harry straightened his back and turned to face the knight once more.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb with me, it won't work. Casting such a dangerous spell at that tree was a damn fool thing to do."

"Yeah? And just what would you know about it?" replied Harry as his anger began to surface once again.

"Tell me this, then," countered the knight with a calm voice, "what would have happened if your little blonde friend was in that part of the forest when you so blindly cast your spell? I happened upon her in just about that area earlier that very same day. I believe she said she was hunting for snore cakes or some such thing. Did you even look to see where or perhaps _at_ _whom_ you might be aiming before throwing such a deadly spell?"

As the old man spoke, Harry's eyes widened, and his anger, as well as most of the color in his face drained away.

_I could have hurt Luna. I could have killed Luna too…_

"I thought not," the knight said in answer to his own question. "Come with me."

Since Harry couldn't think of anything to say in reply, he simply found himself following the knight's order. Within a few moments, they approached the side of Hagrid's hut; there they found the tree that Harry had so carelessly felled a few days before.

"It does not take a prophet to see that you are full of anger. That anger is controlling you, making you do some rather stupid things." Harry silently glared at the old man. "Unless you learn to control your passions, to channel your energy into something besides destruction, and instead into something productive, you are going to end up hurting either yourself or someone else. And as Saint Tomus the Black Friar has taught us, there are few things more dangerous, not to mention more pitiful and shameful than a man ruled by his passions."

"Yeah, and what do you know about my _passions_?" replied Harry in an angry and petulant tone.

"Believe me, I know enough." The knight then walked over to the side of the Gamekeeper's hut and picked up a bow saw and a hatchet. "Instead of throwing another tantrum again today, you are going to put your energy into cleaning up the mess you have already made."

At this, Harry sucked in a quick breath. The mess that came to Harry's mind at that moment had nothing to do with the tree lying on the ground, but rather with two people who were recently lying in the hospital wing.

_Hermione… Ron…_

_Sirius…_

"Nothing helps us to learn to put some reins on our stronger passions more than good, hard work," continued the knight as he gestured with the tools toward the fallen tree.

"And what if I don't want to?"

"Then you will likely do something foolish once again. But tell me, what else have you to do today?"

Unable to come up with a counter argument, and realizing that hacking at a tree was just as good as wandering around the grounds, Harry stripped off his robe, rolled up his sleeves and extended his hands for the tools.

"Good," replied the knight. "Start with the hatchet and clear off all the branches from the trunk. When you are done with that, use the saw to cut the trunk into sections, each about a foot to a foot and a half long."

Harry went to work and after a few minutes, his arms were covered in sticky pine sap, likely ruining his shirt. Hacking at the branches was no easy job, and Harry was rather tempted to just use magic to get the task over and done with. But something made Harry think that the knight would not take kindly to such an action. So, Harry continued working.

After a few moments, Harry glanced up to see that the knight had found a wooden chair and was seated near the hut smoking a pipe and reading a book. He had unbuckled his sword and had it propped up and leaning against the chair beside him. He was even wearing a pair of small reading glasses on the tip of his nose. For some reason the sight struck Harry as rather comical, not exactly the image of a knight in shining armor that often came to mind, and he snorted in amusement before turning back to his work.

It was slightly past lunchtime when Harry finally finished chopping all of the branches off the tree trunk. The knight had disappeared earlier, likely going to get something to eat. Just before Harry was about to pick up the saw, though, the old man reappeared carrying a canvas sack.

"Time for a break," said the knight. "You cannot work all day without eating. Come."

He tossed the sack to Harry, who opened it to see a small loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese and an apple as well as a large bottle of water.

"Eat. You'll need your strength in order to cut up that tree."

There was no more conversation as Harry ate his simple meal and then went to work on the tree once again.

By the time Harry was finished sawing the trunk and the larger branches into sections, the sun had fallen quite low in the sky. His right arm, shoulder and back ached with soreness. Even thinking back to his time at the Dursleys', he could scarcely remember ever physically working so hard. His palms had blisters the size of Galleons and his clothes were drenched in sweat and covered with sticky tree sap.

He felt rather good however, in a tired sort of way, like he had accomplished something worthwhile.

"I think that's enough for today," observed the old knight. "Come back tomorrow morning at an hour past dawn and we'll continue."

Harry wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he nodded his head in agreement. That night he slept like a rock.

OoOoO

OoOoO

The next morning, Harry was awakened by an incessant tapping at his window. He reached to his nightstand, put on his glasses and then looked to the window to see Hedwig as well as the lightening sky which meant that dawn was approaching. Harry got out of bed and opened the window to let in his owl. He removed the letter tied to her leg and spied the small, neat script of Hermione Granger. Harry paused for a moment, considering whether or not he wanted to read the letter, but in the end curiosity got the better of him.

_Harry!_

_Where in the world are you? What's going on? Why are you avoiding me?_

Leave it to Hermione to get right to the heart of the matter without beating around the bush.

_I know that things were pretty bad at the Department of Mysteries, but please, don't shut us out like this. It wasn't your fault, Harry, you must see that. You were tricked. You're not alone in being tricked by Voldemort, he's done it to lots of others. It's not your fault. Please talk to me. I've been going spare with worry since I was released from the hospital wing and couldn't find you anywhere. Ron's been beside himself as well. If Professor McGonagall hadn't warned us that you wouldn't be on the Hogwarts Express I don't know what I might have done. Please, Harry, talk to me. Let me help. At the very least, please write back so that I know that you're okay._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry put the letter down on his bed and stroked Hedwig's feathers for a moment before getting dressed and leaving for breakfast. As he was heading for the door, Hedwig let out a loud bark which made Harry stop and turn back toward his owl. The bird in question nodded at Hermione's letter and then stuck out her leg.

"Sorry, Hedwig, I just… not now. Maybe I'll write back later."

OoOoO

OoOoO

An hour and a half later found Harry and Keldorn once again standing near Hagrid's hut. Harry had come better prepared than the day before, wearing and old pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt. Hagrid was also present this morning, and Harry noticed him carrying a rather large piece of wood. It looked like a cross section of the trunk of an oak tree, about a foot tall and perhaps three in diameter. He set it down near the cut-up tree that Harry had worked on the day before.

"There yeh go, Harry. Tha' there should do yeh jus' fine."

Harry was slightly confused, but did not reply since Keldorn approached from the hut at that moment a large axe.

"This," said the knight, "is a maul. It is not an axe. Axes are for cutting and chopping. Mauls are made for splitting wood. As such, they are rather heavier and have a thicker head. Normally, you should wait for the wood to season before splitting it, but splitting green wood, while a bit more difficult, works just as well."

With that, he handed the heavy maul to Harry.

"Have you ever done this before?"

Harry simply shook his head in reply. The knight unbuckled his thick leather belt from which hung his sword as well as an assortment of leather pouches, and propped the weapon up against the chair by the Gamekeeper's hut. He then took the heavy tool back from Harry and walked over to the cut-up tree, picked up a log and stood it up on the large oak cross section that Hagrid had carried over.

"Plant your feet about should width apart," the knight began while demonstrating the proper position, "hold the maul with your left hand near the end of the handle and your right near the head. Bring it up over your head and swing it down in an arc onto the log. As you swing, let your right hand slide down the handle to meet your left at the bottom."

After he had finished explaining, the knight demonstrated the technique and with a quick swing, cleanly split the log in two.

"Tha's a good stroke there, tha' is," commented the Gamekeeper.

"Easy enough once you get the swing of it. Each log should be split into probably six or more pieces, depending on how big it is. You want nice, thin wedges, not something that's too large to easily burn. Here you go, get to it. I'll stay over here to make sure you don't bleed to death if you manage to chop off your foot."

With that, he handed to tool back to Harry, and gestured for him to have a go.

Splitting wood, decided Harry, was much more difficult than sawing it. He kept missing the log or he would bring the maul down with the head slightly turned so that it would glance off to the side and send a painful reverberation through the handle and up Harry's arms. When he did manage to hit the log straight on, he couldn't manage much more than to get the blade stuck in it.

All the while, the old knight and Hagrid sat side by side in two wooden chairs offering occasional advice.

"Bend yer knees, Harry."

"Don't swing so hard. It's not about strength. Let the maul do the work; it will wear you out long before you wear it out."

"Aim fer the split in the grain."

And so forth. Eventually, after what seemed like forever to Harry, he managed to split one of the logs and after that, he managed to get into a rhythm. He would swing at the log and actually managed to split it on every third try or so, and then reposition it for the next stroke. After the piece he was working on was done, he would carry the pieces over to Hagrid's wood pile, and then place another log onto the chopping block.

Splitting wood, Harry decided, was _hard_. After only a few minutes, he was breathing heavily and sweating like he was standing in a furnace.

Meanwhile Hagrid and Keldorn seemed to get along well enough. Both were smoking their pipes and they seemed find mutual enjoyment in telling stories of different dangerous creatures that they had come across. Hagrid tended to remark about caring for the poor, misunderstood '_little darlin's_,' but Keldorn's tales focused more on fighting them.

"I had just escorted my squire Ajantis north to investigate the iron crisis, when we were waylaid by a colony of ankhegs, which burst out of the ground in front of us."

"Err, wha's an ankheg? Ain't never heard o' summat like tha' before."

"They're large, insect-like monsters, covered with a thick, brown shell that's very difficult to pierce. They live underground and prey on cattle and other livestock. Sometimes they'll attack people if they get hungry enough."

"Blimey."

"So there we were, three of the beasts staring us down, foul smelling acid dripping from their jaws. We drew our swords, ready to defend ourselves when Ajantis looks over at me and says, 'You told me the girls were prettier up north!'"

"Ha!" replied Hagrid as he slapped his knee in mirth.

"Turns out we found a blacksmith who was willing to pay handsomely for the shells. Used them to make rather some nice armor I recall."

They took a break around noon and retreated into Hagrid's hut for lunch.

"Don' worry," Hagrid turned to Harry with a wink, "I had the elves bring us down a bit o' summat."

Harry smiled at Hagrid's swipe at his own cooking.

The house-elves provided a hearty meal of roasted chickens, potatoes, green beans and fresh rolls and butter. Harry was so hungry from all the hard labor that he ate an entire chicken himself. Ron would have been proud. Hagrid put away six.

Harry only managed to split less than a quarter of the wood that day. It was rather taxing physically, and Harry still hadn't managed to get the proper technique down on every swing. He went to bed that night with two sore arms and a promise to return once again in the morning.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Harry made his way down the stairs of Gryffindor Tower's boy's dormitory just after dawn. He had received another letter from Hermione, much the same as the last one, asking for a reply to be penned soon. It currently sat unanswered in Harry's trunk along with the one from the day before.

As he entered the common room on his way to breakfast, Harry noticed that he had a visitor: Dumbledore.

"Ah, there you are," said the old Headmaster from his seat in one of the many armchairs in the room. "Please, have a seat for a moment; there is something we must discuss."

Harry warily approached the aged wizard, all too aware of how their last conversation had ended. Dumbledore, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease.

"You may not like hearing this, but it can be put off no longer. The last will and testament of Sirius Black will be read this afternoon in Gringotts."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut when he heard his godfather's name.

"I'm sorry that we have not managed to hold a memorial service for him as of yet, as that might arouse some unwanted questions. Perhaps we might hold something less formal and more private in the future. Be that as it may, the goblins are getting rather restless and are demanding that the will be executed. As you are apparently named therein, you have the right to be present during the reading."

Harry remained silent, breathing heavily with his eyes closed and his fists clenched.

"Harry, would you like to go to the reading?"

"No." Harry spat as he glared at the Headmaster.

Without another word, Harry rose to his feet and stormed out of the room.

He decided to skip breakfast so as to avoid the other people in the Great Hall, and instead made his way directly to Hagrid's hut. There he quickly got to work on the woodpile.

Sometime later, Harry was interrupted by the voice of Keldorn.

"Skipping breakfast before a day of hard labor is not a very wise decision."

Harry simply glared at the knight.

"Ah. I see the angry boy has returned. I was wondering when he would make an appearance."

"Piss off!"

"Make me," returned the knight with some amusement.

Harry merely turned back to the chopping block and swung the axe which met its target with a satisfying _thunk_, splitting the log down the center.

"Tell me, who is it that has roused such anger in you? There aren't very many people staying in the castle these days."

"Why do you care?" Harry asked as he positioned a piece on the block.

"Let's say that it gives me something to talk about."

_Thunk!_

"Dumbledore. The man's an arse."

"Really?" queried the knight, "he did not strike me as such. And I'm normally a decent judge of character."

"Yes really. If he would have just _told_ me what was going on, none of this would have happened."

"Ahh, so you speak of the battle waged a few days ago."

"Yes, _I_ _speak of the battle_," Harry said mockingly, throwing the knight's words back at him. "If Dumbledore would have just told me about the damn…" Harry was at least cognizant enough to avoid letting his knowledge of the prophecy slip out, "the damn _thing_ that Voldemort was after, Sirius and Hermione wouldn't be…"

Silence reigned for a moment.

"Your friend Hermione seems to have recovered just fine."

"_She should be dead!_" Harry screamed, throwing the maul down to the ground. "If it wasn't for you, miraculously appearing out of thin air, Hermione would be dead! And it would be _my fault_! Just like Sirius is _my fault_!"

Harry stood there, ramrod straight, breathing heavily, while Keldorn simply looked at him with unbreakable calm.

"She knew it was a trap. She _told_ me, tried to convince me not to go. But I went anyways and she followed," Harry said in a much quieter voice. "And now Sirius, my godfather, my only family is dead and Hermione should be too. And it's all my fault."

Silence stretched on for a long moment.

"And what does the young lady have to say about this?"

Harry shook his head and looked down to his feet.

"I don't know. I've been avoiding her. I couldn't… I just couldn't stand to have her look at me and…"

"Hmmm… If you truly are guilty of the charges you lay against yourself, which, I might add, seems unlikely…" Harry appeared about to interrupt, but the knight raised one hand, asking to continue. Harry relented. "If you truly deserve the anger that you are levying against yourself, then there are only two ways for you to receive absolution.

"First, there is penance. Make up for the damage you have done. However, this will only take you so far, as any penance we undertake can never truly atone for our misdeeds."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"The second, and the only true source of absolution, is _forgiveness_."

When Harry didn't respond, Keldorn continued, "Tell me, if she was here, now, and you could not hide, but instead made a heartfelt apology for the grievous hurt that you caused her, what would your Hermione do?"

Harry looked at his feet and stayed quiet for a moment. Instead of answering the question, Harry tried to redirect the conversation as a tear escaped down his cheek, "Yeah, but Sirius isn't here any more. I got him killed. I can't ask him for forgiveness."

"Yes," replied the knight, "sometimes it is impossible to ask for or receive absolution. Sometimes there are those who, in hardness of their hearts, refuse to forgive. In such times we must remember that we _all_ need to be forgiven, we are all guilty of transgressions of one sort or another. What you really need is to be able to break the hardness of your own heart, and forgive yourself.

"Ultimately, remember that the Light is merciful. To withhold mercy and compassion is a weapon of the Darkness. You will be forgiven if you so desire it. Your godfather, if he was a good man, and I do not doubt that he was since he gave his life fighting against the Darkness, now lives in the Light. In such Light, there can be no Darkness, there can be no hardness of heart.

"Harry, Sirius has already forgiven you. Hermione will forgive you. You must work toward forgiving yourself."

The old knight gave Harry a moment to collect himself and wipe away his tears before speaking again.

"Come, get yourself some breakfast. The elves will provide for you. It will do none of us any good if you collapse from exhaustion due to hunger. Your penance will keep until you have eaten."

Harry merely nodded and walked back toward the castle. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

**AN: Can anyone come up with an onomatopoeia better than **_**thunk!**_** for the noise made by a maul splitting wood? I've been trying but I'm stuck. Suggestions will receive my eternal gratitude.**

**During the past couple of weeks I've managed to get several chapters written. So while I will soon be going crazy trying to finish my degree and might not find very much time to write, there will still be regular updates once a week or so.**

**Thank you to everyone who favorited or put the story on alert, it's nice to know you're enjoying it.**

**Special thanks to those who reviewed; I appreciate the feedback. Please keep it up, I love hearing from you.**

**Finally, please take a moment and leave a review. Even if it's not an in depth analysis of the story, I still want to know what you think, good or bad. So please review.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. V

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

V

_Thunk!_

The log that was on the chopping block split in two. Harry repositioned the larger of the two resulting pieces and then raised the maul for another swing.

_Thunk!_

Harry had spent several days after his conversation with Keldorn splitting wood and thinking. While swinging the maul and moving the logs around was physically exhausting labor, the repetitive nature of the task also provided Harry with ample opportunity to reflect on the past couple of weeks and the things that he had said and done.

He decided that Dumbledore really didn't deserve the treatment Harry had given him. Yes, the Headmaster could have acted differently, but then again, Harry should have acted differently too. It seemed that for all his power, learning and mystique, Dumbledore was just a man after all. And like all human beings, he was prone to sometimes choose the wrong course of action and make mistakes. Harry tried to see things from Dumbledore's point of view; if he had knowledge of a secret prophecy about the most evil and dangerous wizard in the world, and if he knew that the dark wizard needed the information in that prophecy at all costs, would Harry have been willing to share that secret with a fifteen year-old schoolboy? Probably not.

But it was just so _easy_ to be angry with Dumbledore. He was supposed to be in charge; he was supposed to make sure that everything worked out alright in the end. And now, when things had gone to Hell and would never be the same again, it was easy to blame the man who was supposed to stop that from happening. But how, exactly, was Dumbledore supposed to stop Voldemort all on his own or with the support of only a small group of civilians and a few schoolchildren? The old wizard was caught between a rock and a hard place, and Harry had held him to impossibly high standards.

Each swing of the maul forced Harry to realize that Dumbledore did not deserve his anger. It hurt to realize that Dumbledore wasn't all-powerful after all, that he couldn't solve every problem. But Harry supposed that realizing that your idols were just mere human beings was a part of growing up.

_Thunk!_

Harry looked over at the old knight sitting by the hut with his feet propped up on a log, reading and smoking as always. Sir Keldorn Firecam was somewhat of a curiosity for Harry. Sir Firecam, as he insisted on being called by one as young as Harry, had spent each day with him down by the Gamekeeper's hut. While Harry worked himself to exhaustion, the knight would read, trade stories with Hagrid, or sometimes just close his eyes. Harry didn't think he was sleeping at those times, as he still seemed to be aware of what was going on around him. It was more like he was meditating.

Harry always thought that knights and warriors would spend more time fighting or training or whatever it was that soldiers did. He never thought of knights spending as much time reading as Keldorn did.

_I bet Hermione would like to be in his army._

_Thunk!_

That thought brought to mind his other favorite topic to dwell on: one Hermione Granger. She had continued to send him letters everyday, each one a little more frantic than the last.

And each one went unanswered.

Harry read all of the letters of course, and then placed them in his trunk with the others with a mumbled, "I'll write her back later," and that was it. He wasn't completely sure why he was putting off penning a response, but he knew it had to do with the guilt and the anger that he still felt. He knew it was wrong for him to ignore his friends like he had, but he just didn't know what else to do. Like he had told Keldorn a few days ago, Hermione should be dead and it was his fault.

Harry was partly convinced that the girl genius would wise up and realize that fact sometime soon, and then she would want nothing to do with him if he was lucky, and would likely kill him if he wasn't. Harry just couldn't think of anything to say that would repair the damage he had caused to their friendship. You can't take back leading your friends into a deathtrap.

_Thunk!_

Speaking of death, when he wasn't too angry to see straight or absorbed in his thoughts about Hermione, Ron and the others, his mind would come back to Sirius. Hermione was lucky; she was miraculously pulled back from the brink of death. Sirius wasn't. He really was dead and he wouldn't be coming back. Thinking about Sirius didn't make him sad but angry. The only problem was he didn't know _who_ he was supposed to be angry with.

_Thunk!_

Harry had already worked out that it wasn't Dumbledore's fault; the Headmaster was doing the best he could to fight the Dark Lord. But was Harry supposed to be mad at Kreacher for lying to him and thus convincing him to go to the Department of Mysteries, Bellatrix Lestrange for casting the spell that threw his godfather through the veil, or Voldemort for masterminding the whole thing? Harry just wasn't sure. He couldn't really make his anger _stick_ with any of them. He would try, he tried to _hate _them, but he couldn't do it. Harry was certain that he would go after them for what they'd done. He knew that he would stand up to Voldemort if only because the prophecy dictated that he had to, but in all honesty, Harry wasn't really _angry_ with them.

Harry had brought up his confusing anger with Keldorn the night before as they were preparing to head back to the castle after a long day of splitting wood.

"Anger is a tricky thing," the knight had replied, "sometimes it is right and just for a man to be angry, and yet at other times it leads him to the very worst things imaginable. Saint Tomus the Black Friar would say that anger is a response to a perceived insult. When someone insults you, it's not really correct to say that you're angry with the person, it's more that you're angry with the insult. We often get angry with people not only when their _words_ are insulting, but more often when their _actions_ are perceived as an insult. You would likely be angry if one of your friends did something to betray you because their actions would be unexpected, at odds with your previous beliefs about that person, and therefore insulting to you and your beliefs.

"It is not unheard of for a man to find it much harder to truly become angry with one's enemies, since we already expect and believe them to be likely to take actions against us. More often, people become insulted and therefore angry when an enemy offers some gesture of peace or kindness. Just think, if your so-called Dark Lord were to suddenly offer to pay for the funeral arrangements of your godfather, you would likely become rather angry, yes? Such an offer would go against the beliefs that you hold about the Dark Lord, and thus you would conclude that he is mocking you, insulting you, and you would be angry.

"However, as unpleasant and terrible as the reality of war is, we expect our enemies to try and harm us, try to kill us and our comrades on the field of battle. Thus, for some, like yourself, it can be difficult to be angry with your enemies for such actions."

Harry wasn't really sure of what to make of the old knight's explanation. It seemed right and yet wrong at the same time. Perhaps Harry just wanted to find a convenient target for his anger.

_Thunk!_

Because the more he thought and reflected about it, the unhappier he was with the person with whom he found that he was _really _angry.

Himself.

Bellatrix might have cast the spell, and Voldemort might have set the trap, but it was Harry that blindly charged into an unknown and dangerous situation. Even if his vision was right and Voldemort was torturing Sirius in the Ministry, what exactly had Harry hoped to accomplish by running off to confront him? Did he really think he could take on the most feared dark wizard in history with just his wand and a few friends?

Running off to the ministry was stupid. Leading his friends there was doubly stupid. And Harry was _insulted_ by the sheer stupidity of his own actions. He expected better of himself. Thus he realized that the anger he was flinging in every direction, at everyone and everything that presented themselves to him as an easy target, was really meant for himself.

This realization made Harry feel kind of sick.

"Sir Firecam?" Harry asked as he carried an armful of split logs to the woodpile, "is there any way to, well… is it possible to _stop_ becoming angry?"

Keldorn paused his reading and looked at Harry over the small spectacles that were perched on the tip of his nose.

"Well," replied the knight, "what did we learn from Saint Tomus yesterday? Where does anger come from?"

"From being insulted, yes I got that much. But I want to know if we can stop ourselves from becoming angry entirely. It's… well, the last couple of weeks haven't been very fun, what with my being angry all the time…"

"I see. Well, in truth, the answer is rather simple."

Harry looked up in surprise at this, not expecting a simple answer.

"If you desire to never be angry, you simply need to stop perceiving things as insults. Actually _doing_ that, however, is anything but easy. You must grow in humility. Insults attack our pride; if you become truly humble, and remove all stain of pride from your soul, then you cannot perceive something as an insult, and thus you will never become angry."

Harry let out a sigh of disappointment at that.

"However," continued the knight, "I do not think such perfect humility is really possible for us in our fallen, darkened nature. Instead, work on becoming as humble as you can, and when you do find yourself becoming angry, recognize it, try to understand who or what you are really angry with, and put the energy you get from your anger into something productive."

"Like splitting wood?" Harry asked with a laugh.

"Indeed," replied the knight as he turned back to his reading. "Like splitting wood."

OoOoO

OoOoO

Later that evening after dinner, Harry found himself standing in front of the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office.

"Err… I don't suppose you'd just let me in?"

After a moment of silence, during which Harry scratched his head trying to think of a likely password, the gargoyle simply moved to the side accompanied by the loud sound of stone grinding on stone.

"Thanks."

Harry rode up the stairs and knocked on the wooden door at the top.

"Come in, Harry," came the reply from the other side of the door. It seemed that Dumbledore already knew the identity of his visitor.

Harry entered the office and quietly shut the door behind him. A quick glance around the room saw that the armchair had been put back in its proper place and that the cabinet had been repaired. Its shelves, however, contained the broken and smashed pieces of whatever those mysterious items once were.

"Please, have a seat," Dumbledore said, gesturing to one of the chairs.

As Harry approached the desk and sat down, several of the silver, whirling, noisy _things_ on the desktop scurried back out of Harry's reach. Harry blushed with embarrassment.

"What can I do for you this evening?" Dumbledore asked.

"I err…" Harry started, "I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Dumbledore smiled. "That's quite alright, my boy."

"No, err… it isn't." Harry quickly responded. "Please, just let me say it."

Dumbledore simply raised his eyebrows and nodded once.

"I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have yelled at you or broken your things like I did. I had no right to take my anger out on you. You might have made a few mistakes, but so have I. We're only human after all. You've always looked out for me, tried to help me as you could. So I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted, Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile. "And I'm afraid I must apologize as well. This past year hasn't been the best for you, and that is largely my fault. I avoided you, afraid that Voldemort would use the connection you share to attack me. I denied Professor McGonagall's recommendation for you to be one of the Gryffindor prefects, as I thought you had too much on your plate already. I did not realize that doing so would serve to isolate you from your friends as it did. I could have told you about the prophecy sooner, but, well, I'm afraid I simply wanted to spare you the burden for as long as I could. For these, Harry, and for all my many sins that have hurt you, I am truly sorry."

Harry was kind of embarrassed by the Headmaster's frank admissions. Harry's upbringing didn't exactly make him familiar with accepting apologies. Having _Dumbledore_ apologize to _him_ was just weird.

But, like he had come to realize, Dumbledore was merely human after all.

"Umm… that's okay, err… apology accepted."

"Thank you, Harry. That means very much to me."

The two wizards smiled at each other for a moment before Dumbledore brought up a different topic.

"Tell me, Harry, have you been finding your time with Sir Firecam to be beneficial?"

"How did you know about that?" Harry asked in surprise.

"You will find that there is very little that goes on in this castle that I am not aware of." The twinkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes had finally returned.

"Oh. Well, he's okay, I guess. He's helped me kinda work through a few things. By chopping up a tree no less."

"Excellent. I am very pleased to hear that. I believe that Sir Firecam could prove to be a very valuable ally for us in the coming days. I am confident when I say that I believe you can trust him without worry."

"Do you know, err, where exactly he came from?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before returning his gaze to his student.

"If you desire to know of his home world, I believe you would be better off asking him in person. If you instead want to know how he ended up in the Department of Mysteries, that is another question, one to which we don't have a very satisfactory answer.

"The room where you were fighting Bellatrix and where Sir Firecam first appeared is known as the Multiverse Room." Harry listened to the Headmaster's explanation with rapt attention. "While it is not common knowledge, it is a proven fact, nonetheless, that our universe is only one of many, perhaps even an infinite number of parallel universes. Each of the small crystal pendants that adorned the walls of that room could allow a person to travel to one of those alternate universes. In my many long years, I've had occasion to visit one or two of them, purely out of curiosity. These worlds can be very similar to our own, differing, for instance, in only what you might have chosen to eat for breakfast that very morning. Or they could be wildly different to the extent that you might never have existed there at all, or perhaps all of England was missing, or perhaps the earth never formed. The possibilities are seemingly endless…"

Dumbledore was now staring at a point somewhere behind Harry's shoulder, lost in wonder as he described the multiverse. A quick shake of his head brought his attention back to his pupil.

"Where was I? Oh yes. In any event, during the course of your battle, something reacted with the crystals which caused Sir Firecam to be pulled out of his world and dropped here in ours."

Harry's face paled.

"I err… I think I did it."

"Indeed?"

"Well, Bellatrix was banishing groups of the crystals at me, and my Shield Charms had no effect on them. So I cast a Reductor Curse at the next group, hoping to scatter them. Instead they exploded in a white ball of magic that knocked me out. When I came to, Sir Firecam was on the floor."

"Most interesting," said the Headmaster. "The sheer amount of magic released in that room has rendered any of the Ministry's attempts to recreate the exact reaction that took place to be quite hopeless. That it was such a random occurrence from a basic spell is even more intriguing. I quite doubt the Unspeakables will ever be able to figure it out."

"So, does that mean he's stuck here?"

"Quite."

Harry's heart began racing. _Sir Firecam's stuck here and it's my fault! I didn't even realize… I've been so caught up in everything else… I basically kidnapped the man away from everything he's ever known and I didn't even notice!_

"I wouldn't worry about him too much though," continued Dumbledore, "he seems to be taking it quite well. He says that it's all up to Providence."

The Headmaster looked straight into the eyes of his student who seemed to be nearing hyperventilation.

"Don't worry, Harry. He and I have talked about this at great length. He doesn't blame you. And even if he did, he is not the type to hold grudges."

Dumbledore then moved to change the subject.

"I am glad that you stopped by to see me, because there is something else I need to tell you."

Harry focused on the Headmaster as he brought his breathing under control.

"I know you might not want to hear it, but I need to tell you the contents of Sirius' will."

Harry simply nodded for the old wizard to continue.

"You were named as the primary beneficiary of Sirius Orion Black, and aside from some small, almost insignificant bequests, you have inherited the entire Black fortune as well as the his old home: the Order's current Headquarters at Grimmauld Place."

Harry didn't know exactly how he should feel about that.

"Err… exactly how much…?"

"You'd have to ask the goblins to be sure, but I'm quite confident in saying that you need never worry about money again, as long as you keep a level head about you. There was some excitement at the reading when Narcissa Malfoy challenged the will, claiming that everything should go to Draco as he is the nearest male relative by blood." Harry felt his anger beginning to stir hearing that. "But don't worry, Sirius and the goblins left no loopholes for the Malfoys to exploit and their claim was rejected. To that end, I have a question for you.

"I would not presume to make use of Number Twelve without its owner's consent. So, Harry, would it be acceptable to you for the Order to continue to use it as our headquarters?"

"Oh," Harry replied, "that's fine." In truth, the whole topic had Harry feeling a bit out of sorts. He'd _never_ have to worry about money? Harry knew that his parents had left him a tidy sum, but he figured most of that would be spent on his education. To now suddenly be _wealthy_, well, it was a strange concept.

"Well," said the Headmaster, "if there's nothing else you would like to discuss, I'm afraid I must bid you goodnight. I'm an old man and I need my beauty rest."

Harry rose from his chair at the dismissal.

"Right. Thanks for seeing me. Goodnight, Professor."

"No, Harry," returned the aged wizard, "thank you."

OoOoO

OoOoO

The next day saw Harry once more splitting wood. He figured that he would probably manage to finish the job that day. Sir Firecam was in attendance as always; at the moment he was smoking his pipe and watching Harry's labors. Harry's mind was occupied with thoughts of the old knight. He felt sorry for him, stranded in a foreign world with apparently no hope of returning home.

_How can he be so calm about it?_ Harry thought to himself. _Why isn't he trying to find a way home?_

Harry paused in his work, and turned to address the knight.

"Sir Firecam, I err… well…"

"What is it, boy?" the knight asked with his characteristic desire to speak plainly.

"I'm sorry," said Harry before he had a chance to have second thoughts about it.

"Oh? And just what are you sorry for?" queried the knight as he raised his eyebrows.

"For getting you stranded here. It was my spell that brought you here, and Professor Dumbledore says that they have no idea how it happened or how to send you home. I'm not sorry that you _are _here, I mean, if you weren't, Hermione would be, well, you know. But I'm sorry that you've been dragged here without a choice."

"I do not believe," began the knight, "that you have anything to apologize for in this instance. However, since you think that you do, I accept your apology. Thank you for your concern. But, like I said, my being here is really no fault of yours. Did you mean for your spell to bring me here?"

"Well, no."

"And there we have it. The reaction was an accident. Such things happen. It is not the first time I have been caught up in circumstances beyond my control."

"And you're okay with that?" questioned Harry.

"Yes," replied the knight in his usual calm tone, "my life, like the lives of all paladins, is at the service of the Light. I go where I am needed. I do not believe that I am here by chance, even if it was an accident that brought me here. Providence is at work here and time will reveal _why_ I have been brought here."

Harry just nodded and went back to work. If the old knight didn't want to be upset with his situation, well, that was his choice. As he raised the maul and took aim at the log on the chopping block, Harry posed another question.

"So what are you going to do now?"

Sir Firecam tapped out the ashes and burnt remnants of tobacco from his pipe as he answered.

"Well, right now I will continue to make sure that you don't bleed to death if you happen to chop off your foot," the knight said with a smile. "After that, I believe that your Headmaster is trying to cook something up for me.

"In any event," he continued as he fished around in one of the pouches on his belt looking for his reading glasses, "I shall ultimately do what I was born to do."

"And what's that?"

"I will stand against the Darkness."

* * *

**AN: The Multiverse Room and the crystal pendants that allow travel though the different universes are made in homage to **_**Shadow Walks**_** by lorien829. If you haven't read it, go do so now. Read everything she's written for that matter. She's also got stuff posted on Portkey dot org, some of it different than what's here on FFN, so be sure to check that out too.**

**Not the most exciting of chapters, I know, but it was necessary. Things start to get a bit livelier in chapter VI, so stay tuned!**

**Thank you to everyone who added this to your favorites or put it on alert. It's nice to know you're enjoying it.**

**Special thanks to everyone who reviewed; I love hearing what you have to say about the story.**

**Please take a moment to leave a review on your way out.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	6. VI

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

VI

Harry found life to be a bit boring after he finished chopping up the tree. Every day started the same way with another letter from Hermione, which would be duly read, and then placed in his trunk unanswered. Harry would then try to find something to occupy his time. Unfortunately, there just wasn't much to do.

He spent a bit of time flying each day; he had gotten his Firebolt back with the assistance of Dumbledore. But it was difficult for him to just be carefree and soar through the sky like he used to. So much had changed in the last few weeks that flying and Quidditch, while still fun, just didn't have the same attraction as they used to.

Harry had no summer assignments to spend his time on since he had just taken his O.W.L.s and he first needed to know his scores before he could select classes for the next year. That meant he couldn't pass the time doing homework.

_I wonder if having no homework is driving Hermione round the bend?_ Harry thought to himself at one point. He supposed that he could always write to her and find out, but that would mean that he would have to answer her increasingly frantic letters. Besides, Harry just didn't know what to say to her. Replying to her serious and concerned messages with a light-hearted, "so are you surviving without any homework?" just didn't seem right.

He tried to spend some time in the library reading, but being in that room with all the books brought his mind back to Hermione and made him feel guilty about not answering her letters.

At least his anger had mostly abated. It wasn't gone completely, but now that he knew that he was angrier with himself than anything else, Harry was able to process it better. He _hoped_ that Sirius, Hermione and the others would be able to forgive him one day for what he had done to them, but he doubted that they ever would.

Harry also hadn't seen as much of Keldorn since he finished splitting the wood. He still ran across him on the grounds every once in a while, or in the Great Hall during meals since there were so few people currently staying at the castle, but it wasn't the same as spending the day working together. Harry found that he missed the old man. There was something about him that Harry simply liked. Perhaps it was his direct way of speaking, or that he never shied away for explaining the reasons why he did something or why he gave a particular piece of advice.

In any event, Harry was bored. And he was a bit worried that he might soon go stir crazy, or even worse, that his anger might come back with a vengeance now that he didn't really have an outlet to pour his energy into.

So, it was with this in mind that Harry set out to find Keldorn late one night after dinner. He had searched the Marauder's Map and found the old knight standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

Harry made his way up the stairs of the tower, and gently pushed open the door at the top.

The old knight was standing at the far end of the rooftop with his hands clasped behind his back. He turned his head to identify the newcomer, but then went back to gazing at the stars.

"Good evening, Harry."

"Good evening. You seem to spend a lot of time up here," Harry said in reply.

"I suppose I do," the knight responded as he continued to look into the vastness of the night sky. "Even though your stars are different, I still find looking upon them to be soothing. Such bright points of Light, boldly standing out amidst the Darkness all around them."

Harry tilted his head back to look at the stars. He'd never given them much thought aside from his astronomy classes.

"I suppose they give me hope," continued the knight. The two figures stood in silence for a few minutes. To Harry, the way that the knight spoke of light and darkness seemed to make the words carry much more meaning than they normally did. That moment, with the way the two of them were silently gazing at the bright stars in the dark, night sky seemed weighty, almost sacred.

But eventually Harry broke the silence and brought up the reason why he came.

"I was wondering, err… if you might, well, have any other ideas for things for me to do."

Sir Firecam turned and focused his attention on Harry.

"It's just that, ever since I finished the tree, I've been a bit, well, bored," continued Harry.

"Am I to be your entertainer now?" the old knight asked with one eyebrow raised.

"No, that's not what I meant," Harry answered. "It's just… I don't have any school work for the summer, and I'm stuck here on the grounds with almost no one else around."

"Take up some reading."

"I can really only do so much of that," Harry replied, failing to mention that he had no desire to spend time in the library because it brought up unpleasant thoughts about Hermione. The knight furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Harry intently; it almost seemed like he could tell that he was leaving something out of his reply.

"And like you said," Harry went on before the knight called him out on his omission, "I need something physical to do, something to focus my energy on."

"Well, I can't really fault that reasoning. Perhaps a bit of exercise would do you some good. Very well, meet me tomorrow morning, after breakfast in the clearing outside the doors of the castle. We'll see what strength swinging Hagrid's maul has given you."

With that, the knight turned his attention back to the stars and Harry left him to it.

OoOoO

OoOoO

The next morning Harry made his way to his meeting with Keldorn feeling slightly off kilter. He as anxious to find out just what the knight had in store for him, but he was more worried about something that he found to be missing that morning.

For the first time since the day after the Hogwarts Express had departed, Harry did not have a letter from Hermione waiting for him when he woke up.

Perhaps she got fed up with his lack of response and simply stopped writing. Maybe she finally realized that it was his fault that she was nearly killed and no longer wanted anything to do with him. Perhaps Harry should have written back while there was still some chance of salvaging their friendship…

Harry tried to put those thoughts out of his mind as he saw Sir Firecam waiting for him. The knight was waiting just outside of the gate and off to the side on a stretch of level, grassy ground. What he was holding made Harry stop in surprise. On his left forearm was strapped a round, wooden shield while his right hand held a wooden sword. His actual sword had been removed, and was propped up against a nearby bench. On the ground next to the bench was another wooden shield and sword.

"Don't stand there gawking, boy, come and pick up your arms."

The knight's words stirred Harry to movement once more and he quickly gathered the sword and shield and awkwardly picked them up. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he said he was looking for something to do. He was thinking of some other sort of manual labor, something basic that would occupy his time without much further concern. Sword fighting never even crossed his mind.

"Now then," began Sir Firecam, "You were looking for something to do. Well, I think some sword training might be just what you need. It will help teach you some discipline, which you seem to need, and it will definitely use up your excess energy. At the very least, it should alleviate your boredom."

"Are you sure about that?" questioned Harry. "No one's had much use for sword fighting for the past couple hundred years in this world."

"The sword is more than just a weapon for war. The point here is not to prepare you for entering a melee, but rather to strengthen your mind, your body and your will. Like you said, it is unlikely you will ever wield a sword in battle; I would think that as a wizard, you would be much more likely to wield your wand. Nonetheless, learning the sword might benefit you even there.

"If you would rather find something else to occupy you, please feel free. But remember, you came to me looking for some task. This is what I have chosen for you. Take it or leave it."

"Alright," replied Harry, "I'll give it a go. What do I do?"

"First, take the shield in your left hand, put your arm through the loop and grasp the handle like so. Now, hold the sword with your right hand. Not too tight, it's not a club. You'll use your fingers to control the finer movements of the blade."

"It's a bit heavier than I expected for a wooden sword," Harry remarked.

"Yes, it's weighted to be even heavier than the real thing. Sword work requires strength. Strength demands that you exercise your muscles. The weight of the sword will help with that."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"Now then," continued the knight, "look to your feet. Keep them shoulder-width apart and bend your knees. Put you weight on the balls of your feet with your left foot forward. Present your profile to your opponent and hold your shield firmly in front of you. Hold your sword up to the right in a guard position. Point the tip toward your opponent's face…"

The knight continued on in the same vein, pointing things out, repositioning Harry's arms or legs when they were incorrect, and making observations.

Eventually, once he was pleased with Harry's stance, he proceeded to having Harry move forward and backward, as well as side to side, all with deliberate, precise motions. He kept a sharp eye out for even the slightest imperfections and was quick to point them out and correct them.

"Don't cross your feet."

"Is that where your thumb is supposed to be? I thought not."

"Keep your knees bent!"

The hardest part, Harry quickly discovered, was keeping his knees bent. After only a few seconds, his thighs would begin to burn with the strain. Constantly holding the heavy sword and shield with his arms bent was no picnic either.

When he agreed to the knight's plan, Harry had initially thought that learning how to sword fight would involve more, well, sword fighting. After what must have been two or three hours, all he had done was footwork and trying to keep his arms, back, head, fingers, and the rest of his body in the correct positions. Harry was beginning to see how this could teach him some discipline.

"Alright, take a break."

Harry sighed in relief as he dropped his weapons and flexed his arms and legs, trying to work some of the soreness out.

"Is that how you treat your equipment? Just drop it on the ground like a sack of bricks when you're done? Does this look like a pig farm?"

Apparently even taking a break could be done incorrectly.

"A warrior is only as good as his equipment," the knight continued as Harry scrambled to pick up his sword and shield and carefully place them down by the bench. "Treat it well and it will take care of you. Neglect it, and it will fail when you need it most. You might not be training for combat, but you _will_ act like you are as long as I'm teaching you. I've made squires muck out stables with their _bare hands_ for doing less than what you just did."

It seemed that Sir Firecam as a drill sergeant could be a bit demanding.

After lunch they got right back to it. Keldorn brought out a wooden dummy from the DADA classroom for Harry to use as a target.

_Finally,_ thought Harry, _I'll at least get to swing the sword around a bit._

"While the type of longsword you're using can and is used to cut, for now we will focus on thrusting. So no silly sword-waving."

_Or not_, thought Harry.

The knight then positioned himself in front of the dummy while holding his own wooden sword and shield.

"With your shield held at the ready, take a half step forward with your front foot and at the same time thrust your sword arm out, across your body to full extension." He demonstrated the proper technique. "Strike hard, with force behind it. The dummy is on a spring, so it will yield without you having to worry about breaking your sword or your wrist. Now then, you try."

Keldorn got out of the way and Harry moved into position. Once he was set, he stabbed the dummy with his sword resulting in a quiet _tap!_

"Strike it like you mean it, boy! Again!"

_Tap!_

"Fix your thumb. Again!"

_Tap!_

"Don't lower your shield. Again!"

_Tap!_

And so it went for quite some time. The knight varied things a little bit by having Harry aim for different areas on the dummy, but after two hours of standing in the guard stance, repeatedly stabbing the wooden dummy, Harry's thighs and arms were aching, and his mind was getting a bit numb as well.

"Well, what have we here?" said the knight rather unexpectedly.

Harry was a bit confused when this question replaced Keldorn's expected "Again!" He was about to turn around to see what could have distracted his teacher when a loud, feminine voice pierced the air.

"_HARRY POTTER!_" shouted Hermione Granger, "_what the bloody hell is wrong with you?!_"

Harry dropped his sword in surprise and spun around to see the irate witch storming directly at him with her wand drawn. Harry's eyes widened and his face paled as he swallowed hard. If he was closer, he was sure he would be able to see fire in her eyes.

"You… you… _Accio wooden sword!_"

Harry's forgotten sword flew into Hermione's waiting hand as she continued to stride toward him. Harry had just enough presence of mind to raise his shield above his head as the livid witch stepped up and began raining blows down upon him. Harry was certain that the shield was all that stood between him and a fractured skull.

"_You! Bloody! Inconsiderate! Git!_" Hermione punctuated each word with a hard and fast swing of the sword which made a loud _thwack! _upon his shield. "_What. Is. Wrong. With. You?!_"

_Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!_

"Did you forget how to write?!"

_Thwack!_

"I've been going out of my mind!"

_Thwack!_

"How could you ignore me like that?!"

_Thwack!_

"Me?!"

_Thwack!_

"After everything we've been through!"

_Thwack!_

By this point Harry was forced down onto one knee, holding his shield up with both hands, praying that it held together under the sheer weight of Hermione's fury. Luckily for him, Hermione seemed content to simply beat him over the head. If she decided to change the angle of her attack and, say, swipe at him from the side, he was in for some trouble, and probably quite a few broken bones.

Finally the assault stopped, and after a moment Harry peaked out from behind his shield. Hermione grabbed the wooden barrier, threw it to the side, and pulled Harry into a vice-like hug.

_Perhaps she's given up on trying to beat me to death and wants to try suffocating me_, thought Harry.

When she pulled back from the hug a few moments later, Harry noticed there were tears in her eyes.

"You are _such_ an _ass!_" Hermione screamed at him before pushing him away, spinning on her heel and storming off to the castle.

Harry, dumbfounded, simply dropped onto the ground and watched Hermione stomp her way into the castle.

"You deserved every bit of that for dropping your sword," said the knight from his position a few feet away.

"Thanks."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go after her. I'll clean up."

"Go after her? Are you daft? She'll kill me! And you said she'd forgive me."

"Well, I've been wrong before. But you'll never know until you've actually apologized."

When Harry remained seated on the ground, Keldorn tried a different tactic.

"I didn't know you were a coward. She's just a girl."

Harry glared at the knight.

"Just a girl who happens to know more curses and hexes than the rest of the school put together."

"If she wanted to hex you, she probably would have done so already. She had plenty of opportunity. Now go after her before I show you how to really strike with a wooden sword."

Harry reluctantly got to his feet and made his way to the castle. He surreptitiously drew his wand and held it against his leg just in case Keldorn was wrong about Hermione's desire to curse him.

She wasn't in the entrance hall, so he decided to try the Gryffindor Common Room. If she wasn't there, he could stop by his dorm to find her on the Marauder's Map. Either that or lock himself in and barricade the door…

As he crawled through the portrait hole, Harry heard the sound of sniffling, and once he emerged into the common room, he found his best friend sitting on one of the couches. She looked like she'd been crying. Harry cautiously approached and sat down with her on the couch, although leaving plenty of space between them.

He had no idea what to say, so he just remained silent. He figured Hermione would say something eventually.

"I'm sorry Harry," Hermione whispered after a moment.

Whatever it was that Harry had expected her to say, this wasn't it.

"Err… that's okay," he replied. "You didn't really even hit me, so…"

"Not about that," interrupted Hermione, "I'm sorry I failed you. I'm sorry that I wasn't what you needed when you needed me most…"

Now Harry was really confused.

"Err… what? What in the world are you talking about?"

Hermione finally looked up at the young wizard. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she had a look of determination on her face.

"The Department of Mysteries. You needed me; you needed me to keep my head and figure things out and fight by your side. But I got careless and sloppy and wound up getting hurt and I was useless to you and then everything went to pieces and now you've been ignoring me because you've finally realized that you don't need me after all and…"

"Hermione," Harry interjected into her rambling, "you're not making any sense."

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, and the witch in question glared at him. He hurriedly continued before she decided to unleash her fury again.

"I mean, why on earth would I be mad at you because you got hurt? _You're _the one who's supposed to be mad at _me_."

Hermione looked at him like he just told her that he'd fallen in love with Draco Malfoy and was having his lovechild.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous!" shouted Harry as he stood from the couch, his anger starting to rise. "I led you into a death trap and you know it. If it weren't for the miraculous appearance of Firecam, you would be _dead_ right now! You should be _dead!_ Just like Sirius is _dead!_ And it's _my fault!_"

"Harry…"

Hermione reached out to him only to have her hand swatted away.

"No! I just… _Merlin_, Hermione, how can you even look at me?" Harry fell back down onto the couch and dropped his face into his hands.

"I just couldn't face you afterwards," Harry continued in a softer voice. "I just couldn't bear to see the look on your face when you realized that I should have gotten you killed. That's why I avoided you and didn't write back. I just couldn't."

"Oh Harry!"

Hermione practically leapt from her side of the couch to engulf Harry in another bone-crushing hug.

"I don't blame you, Harry. That thought never even entered into my mind."

Hearing those words made something break inside of Harry.

"I'm so sorry…" he mumbled into her hair as he started to cry. A few tears quickly became sobs. Harry cried for Hermione, for his friends and for Sirius. He also cried for himself, for the guilt and blame that he had forced himself to bear. It took him a while to realize that Hermione was crying too, sobbing just as hard as he was. The two remained there for a long while, clinging to each other and crying for past mistakes."

When they finally calmed down and separated, Harry wiped his nose and then looked into Hermione's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Oh Harry. I suppose you're just going to keep apologizing until I forgive you. Well I do. Of course I forgive you, Harry. And I'm sorry too, for everything."

"Err… that's okay," Harry replied before forming a little smirk, "I'm just glad you kept hitting the shield instead of my skull."

Hermione flushed red, embarrassed by her earlier actions, but she then met Harry's eyes with a smirk of her own.

"Yes, well, just you remember that the next time you try to avoid me instead of talking to me."

That comment made both of them break into full-blown smiles.

"Oh don't worry, I won't forget, especially since you actually _swore_."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh yes you do," Harry's eyes danced with mirth, "you swore a whole bunch of times. Just wait 'til I tell Ron!"

"Harry James Potter! Don't you dare!"

"So you admit it?"

Hermione glared at her best friend.

"Fine. But just wait until _I_ tell Ron that _you_ got beat up by a girl."

"Oi!"

"And I didn't even have to use my wand either. It was all muscle. Pure, unadulterated Granger. And I beat you into the ground!" Hermione then flexed her biceps for added emphasis.

Now it was Harry's turn to glare at his best friend.

"Truce?" offered Hermione.

"You don't tell anyone about you beating me up, and I won't tell anyone that you swore."

"Deal."

The two teenagers smiled at each other, glad to be back on familiar footing after the past few weeks.

"Merlin," muttered Hermione as she wiped at her eyes and nose, "I must look absolutely dreadful."

Harry might have been clueless around girls, but he wasn't going to touch that comment with a ten foot pole.

"Not that I'm not glad that you're here, but what exactly are you doing at Hogwarts anyways?" Harry asked instead.

"Well," answered Hermione, "when _somebody_, who shall remain nameless, refused to answer my letters, I kind of started to go a bit spare, what with being stuck in my house, unable to find anything out. So last night I wrote Professor McGonagall and I asked if you were still here and if so, if I might be allowed to come visit. She wrote back and this morning I took the Knight Bus."

"Ah."

"My turn. What exactly were you and Sir Firecam doing with those wooden swords and shields when I arrived?"

"You already know him?"

"He introduced himself to me while I was still in the hospital wing. Now answer the question."

"Yes, ma'am. He was teaching me how to sword fight." Harry could tell that this response had her a bit puzzled, so he explained further. "During the past few days I've had some, well, _issues_ with anger. Sir Firecam said I needed an outlet. He first had me splitting wood, but since I finished that, we've moved on to sword fighting. He says it will teach me discipline as well as help use up some energy."

"Well good luck to him," Hermione cheekily replied.

"Oi!"

"Why did he start you off with chopping wood?" Hermione asked after a moment of thought.

Harry blushed and looked away.

"I kind of got really angry and then sort of… blew up a tree."

"You did _what?_"

"I cast a really strong Reductor Curse and knocked over a tree."

"Harry that was really dangerous, someone…"

"I know!" Harry interrupted before she could start a full-blown lecture. "I know how dangerous and stupid it was. I've got the blisters and sore arms to prove that I've learned my lesson. It won't happen again."

Hermione nodded sharply, like she'd just finished disciplining an unruly first-year.

"Good."

Silence fell once again for a moment. Before Harry spoke up again.

"Thanks, Hermione. You're a good friend."

"You're welcome, Harry." She smiled in reply. "You're welcome."

* * *

**AN: Well, there's Chapter 6. Not much else to say here.**

**Thanks to everyone who added this to their favorites or put in on alert. Special thanks to my wonderful reviewers. Reading your comments really helps with the writing process.**

**Please leave a review on your way out; I want to know what you think.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. VII

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

VII

Later that evening, Harry and Hermione made their way down to the Great Hall for dinner.

"So how long are you staying?" Harry asked as they passed through the corridors.

"I suppose I'll leave either tonight or tomorrow."

"Oh," Harry responded, a bit dejectedly.

"Coming here was kind of a spur of the moment thing. I didn't even bring a change of clothes with me."

"Well, I suppose you have to go back home anyways, spend time with your parents and all that."

"Would you rather I stayed?" Hermione questioned.

"Well, err… I mean, it has been a bit lonely around here, what with everyone gone. Dumbledore and McGonagall are around, but I don't really fancy hanging around with them too much. I've spent a lot of time with Hagrid and Sir Firecam, but, well, I have to admit, it would be nice to have a friend around."

Hermione smiled at him.

"Well, I'll at least have to go home to get some things, and I suppose I'll need permission from Professor McGonagall, but I think I could manage to pay you a visit."

"But don't you want to stay with your parents?" Harry asked a bit confusedly. He couldn't really fathom that anybody who actually had parents wouldn't want to see them all the time.

Hermione looked away.

"Don't worry, they'll be fine."

They arrived at the Great Hall and entered. They passed by the long, empty house tables and made their way to the staff table. With so few people currently in the castle, everyone was invited to sit together during meals at the same table. Professor McGonagall and Sir Firecam were already present, but Dumbledore's chair was conspicuously empty.

The old knight rose from his seat and politely bowed his head as the two students approached.

"Good evening, my lady," he said, addressing Hermione.

"Good evening, Sir Firecam, Professor McGonagall. I'm sorry that I didn't give you a proper hello earlier, but I was a bit preoccupied," Hermione said with a quick, sideways glance at Harry.

"I trust that everything is settled in that regard then?" McGonagall asked, her eyes skipping back and forth between the two Gryffindors as everyone took their seats.

"Err… yes," answered Harry, "everything's fine now."

"Ha!" laughed Sir Firecam, "I should hope so. After the walloping that this young lady gave you earlier, I would fear for your sanity if you didn't mend things right quick. Even the most dimwitted of fools knows to keep his skull intact."

Harry and Hermione both flushed crimson while McGonagall raised an eyebrow in question. They were saved from further embarrassment in front of their Head of House by the arrival of Hagrid.

"Evenin' you lot," He greeted as he pulled his massive chair up to the table. He then spotted Hermione at the table and broke into a smile. "Hermione! What're yeh doin' back here at the castle so soon?"

"Oh you know," the young witch replied, "someone has to keep Harry out of trouble."

"Ain't tha' the truth. Right, Keldorn?"

"I would have to agree," replied the old knight as he returned to his meal. Harry merely grumbled under his breath as he filled his plate.

"Professor McGonagall," began Hermione, "I was wondering, would it be alright for me to come and stay at the castle this summer?"

"And just why, Miss Granger, would you want to do that?" countered the Deputy Headmistress.

"Well, we do have N.E.W.T.-level courses starting this fall and I figured I could use the library to get a head start. I could also start my research into the enchantment project that we talked about last year. Besides, Harry mentioned that it's a bit lonely here with everyone gone. I figured we could keep each other company."

McGonagall looked back and forth between the two teenagers.

"I trust nothing untoward would be taking place in Gryffindor Tower during your stay?"

Harry was a bit confused by that statement, but Hermione seemed to recognize what the professor meant as she turned a bright shade of red.

"I… of course not!" replied Hermione, "I mean, we're not…" Hermione gestured back and forth between herself and Harry while trying to find the right words. "We're just friends."

_Oh!_ thought Harry as he finally cottoned on to what McGonagall was referring to. Now it was his turn to do his tomato impersonation.

"Very well. You'll need permission from your parents of course. And I'll have to speak with the Headmaster before making a final decision. But I have no reason to believe that he would object. Students have stayed over the summer before in order to work on special assignments. You'll also have to abide by all the normal rules, including curfew, and will require permission as well as an escort should you wish to leave the grounds.

"And just so we're clear, Miss Granger and Mr. Potter, if I detect anything going on that I would deem to be improper, you can kiss your chances of being Head Girl or Quidditch Captain goodbye. Am I understood?"

"Yes, professor," the two embarrassed teens responded in unison.

_Great_, thought Harry, _I hadn't even thought of Hermione that way before. Good luck getting that out of your head now. And we'll be staying in the tower by ourselves too. Bloody hell!_

Dinner went on in silence for a while. The two students were too embarrassed to really say much, while Hagrid and Sir Firecam seemed highly amused by the situation and were content to watch the teenagers squirm in their seats. Eventually, Hermione had had enough and decided to move the conversation onward.

"Sir Firecam," she addressed the old man, "when you introduced yourself to me, you mentioned that you were a paladin and a knight. What exactly did you meant by that?"

The question caught Harry's attention and he looked up and over to the old man. Harry hadn't really given Sir Firecam's status much thought. To Harry, being a knight either meant you were a Muggle who had been honored by the Queen for some kind of achievement, or you were a soldier that wore armor and carried a sword. It probably had something to do with horses as well, but it didn't seem all that important. Harry had no clue what a paladin was.

"Well, Miss Hermione, a paladin is a warrior who has been consecrated in the Light."

"What do you mean by 'consecrated'?" the young witch asked.

"Someone who is consecrated is set apart; they are entrusted with special blessings and graces by the Light. The actual consecration of a paladin takes place during a ritual wherein the Light is invoked and called down upon the candidate, filling him or her, and transforming him into an instrument and servant of the Light."

"'Transforming?' Is there an actual change that takes place?" Hermione continued her interrogation.

"Yes," replied the knight. "The Light grants its paladins special blessings, abilities and benefits unknown to others. There are of course duties and requirements that go along with consecration as well."

Hermione looked ready to ask another question but Harry beat her to it.

"What is the 'light' that you keep talking about? I've heard you mentioned it before, several times, in fact," he asked.

"The Light is the source of all life, of all creation, of everything that is good. But it is more than just a source; it is _alive_, it is truth and mercy and faithfulness and above all, it is charity and love."

"So it's some sort of divinity then?" questioned Hermione.

"Well, I don't know if I would use that word. Where I come from, the false gods, demons who are really slaves of the Darkness, are sometimes referred to as the 'divine ones' by their subjects. We tend to avoid that word due to its associations."

"And what is the Darkness, then?" McGonagall interjected into the conversation. "Is it the opposite of the Light? Two forces holding each other in balance?"

"No," Sir Firecam answered definitively. "The Darkness is not equal to the Light. It is not a balance. The Light is the creator; the Darkness is a part of creation that has become warped, twisted and perverted into evil. You see, the Light created a whole hierarchy of beings, we men and women fall somewhere in the middle of that order. Above us are the luminous guardians of the heavens, beings of radiant power who live closest to the Light. Long ago, the highest, the greatest of these rebelled against the Light. He was not content to serve his brethren as the Light intended, and so he and those he had seduced were cast out of the Light to forever after dwell in Darkness. The demons now live only to destroy, to sow hatred, lies and evil. They cannot harm the Light itself, so instead they try to corrupt or destroy those who are of the Light."

"So, yeh're some sorta holy warrior, fightin' this Darkness, then?" asked Hagrid.

"I believe that sums it up nicely, Hagrid."

"That sounds a lot like some of the religious creation myths that exist here in this world," Hermione observed. "How do you know that the Light really exists? And if it does, do you think it exists in this world too?" It seemed to Harry that Hermione's inherent curiosity had found a new specimen to examine during her stay at the castle for the summer.

"Well," replied the knight with a smile, "I should think it obvious; after all, I was able to heal your injuries through the grace of the Light."

"Right, but perhaps what you would call 'the Light' in your world is just what we would call 'magic' here," Hermione argued.

"That could very well be the case, Miss Granger," said Albus Dumbledore. Everyone was startled by the voice of the newcomer and turned to see him standing a few feet away from the table.

"Please forgive my eavesdropping, but this is a fascinating topic, and I did not wish to disturb the conversation. I would like to note, however, that in our own investigations of the multiverse, it seems that what _we_ might call magic is treated and can even work differently in other universes. I think it likely that our magic is related to Sir Firecam's Light."

"But magic isn't alive," countered Harry.

"Isn't it?" responded Dumbledore as he took his seat at the table. "In truth, what is more magical than life itself?"

"Indeed," continued Keldorn, "Further evidence would be that I have felt the presence of the Darkness here as well. Your so-called Dark Lord reeked of it during our brief battle. Some of the spells that he cast were like dark holes opening into the void."

"We do speak of the difference between everyday magic and the dark arts for a reason after all," Dumbledore said. "It is not just the intent of the spell that matters, as some would have you believe; some magics are dark in themselves. Using them twists your soul, deforming you and binding you to evil."

"In any event," said Keldorn, "we paladins vow to defend the good people of the world from the encroachment of the Darkness and its slaves who, because of their hatred, constantly try to tear down whatever is good. Most paladins operate on their own. Those who recognize that they are called to serve seek out a master who forms them and when and if he deems them ready, consecrates them. However, in my homeland, there is a special order of paladins: the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. Over three thousand years ago, the founders of our Order, seven paladins who were so immersed in the Light that their hearts were said to shine from within their bodies, banded together to fight the Darkness as one. Those of us who are found worthy to be admitted to this Order are known as the Knights of the Radiant Heart."

"Fascinating," commented Hermione with a gleam in her eyes. "Imagine, three thousand years of history…"

"Ha!" laughed Harry. "Sorry everyone, but Hermione was eyeing Sir Firecam like she would a first edition of _Hogwarts: A History_."

"I was not!" protested the witch while she took on a shade of red.

"Don't worry, my girl," said the knight, "I'll look through my things later on. Perhaps I can find something interesting for you to read."

"Now you've done it," laughed Harry as Hermione turned back to the knight, her brief indignation forgotten, "Hermione and a book that no one in the world has ever read before. Well, it was nice knowing you for a little while, Hermione!"

OoOoO

OoOoO

Hermione stayed the night in Gryffindor Tower and left the following morning. She promised Harry that she would return soon, probably the day after next with permission from her parents to remain at the castle for the summer.

Harry spent the morning doing sword work with Sir Firecam. He refused to call it 'sword fighting' as there wasn't any actually _fighting_. The old knight seemed content to have Harry practice his footwork for what must have been at least an hour before moving on to poking the dummy with his wooden sword. Actually learning how to use a sword seemed to have little to do with the swashbuckling seen in the movies.

That evening he wrote letters to Ron, Neville, Luna and Ginny, apologizing for avoiding them during the last week of school and letting them know that he was staying at Hogwarts for the summer. He kept the letters short, merely wishing them a pleasant summer holiday, and sent Hedwig off to make a round of deliveries.

Hermione returned to the castle as she promised with her school trunk in tow. Harry went down to meet her at the gates so that he could help her carry the trunk up the pathway to the castle. Hermione smirked when he moved to pick up the heavy container and pulled out her wand.

"We're at Hogwarts, Harry," she said as she levitated her trunk. "We can do magic here, remember? Although the thought was very sweet of you."

They quickly fell into a routine over the next few days and weeks. Harry would spend the mornings with Keldorn doing sword work. Harry was surprised and amazed when his teacher changed things up a bit a few days in and had him begin to whack the dummy with the edge of the wooden sword instead of merely stabbing it all the time. Harry thought he was doing rather well, but the old knight was always able to find something wrong with his technique.

After a while, Harry's thighs stopped burning from constantly being in his on-guard stance, and his arms got used to bearing the weight of the sword and shield. He figured that he was probably in better shape than he'd ever been before, not that that was really saying much. Hogwarts did provide a first-class magical education, but it left a lot to be desired on the physical side of things. Casting spells could be physically demanding as it took up a lot of energy, but it didn't exactly help build muscle tone or endurance. And riding a magical broom for Quidditch didn't exactly require physical fitness either.

Hermione spent her mornings reading either in the library, or if she felt like it, out on the grounds while Harry practiced what she teasingly referred to as "poking the wooden dummy with his overgrown stick." Harry had tried to get her to join him in the sword lessons, but she had categorically refused, citing her need to prepare for N.E.W.T.s or the reading that had to be done.

"Harry, if you want to spend your time learning to sword fight, that's fine, just leave me out of it. I'd rather read a good book during my time off. After all, Harry, I'm a lover, not a fighter."

Harry wasn't really sure what to make of that statement.

Hermione did tell him that she found the book that Keldorn had loaned her to be absolutely fascinating. The_ Codex Luminis_, as it was called, was part history, part moral code of conduct, and part theological treatise. Hermione was enthralled by the strange and foreign culture that she found within its pages, and often had to be cajoled by Harry into taking a break for lunch.

The two friends spent their afternoons out on the grounds, either visiting with Hagrid or wandering about. After everything that had happened at the end of the previous school year, including their frenzied revision for O.W.L.s, even Hermione was happy to have a bit of time to relax.

OoOoO

OoOoO

About half-way through July, Harry approached the Headmaster after dinner one night with his desire to hold a memorial service for Sirius. Dumbledore agreed and so late one night down by the lake, Harry gathered along with Hermione, Dumbledore, Hagrid, McGonagall and Keldorn to remember his godfather. Hagrid had built a sizable bonfire that burned brightly and reflected off the glassy surface of the water.

They decided not to invite anyone else in order to keep word of the gathering from getting out. Sirius' status as a wanted criminal was never overturned and they didn't want anyone to start asking any unwanted legal questions.

Dumbledore, McGonagall and Hagrid all took a moment to say a few things in memory of Sirius. McGonagall surprised Harry with the fondness with which she spoke of one of the Marauders' infamous pranks.

"I never told him, but I thought that it was simply marvelous when Sirius and his friends charmed all of the suits of armor in the castle into Gryffindor red and gold after we won the Quidditch Cup during his sixth year," the normally stern Deputy Headmistress said wistfully. "And for the week that followed, whenever someone tried to return one of them to normal, all of them would merely start to sing the Gryffindor fight song."

After they had all finished speaking, Harry cleared his voice.

"Sirius was my godfather, and even though I barely got to know him and hardly spent any time with him, he was the closest thing to a real family that I've ever had. Sirius, I hope you're in a better place now. I'm going to miss you. And I'm sorry."

With those simple words, Harry waved his wand and a small envelop address to Sirius Black floated over to the bonfire and was consumed by the flames.

"Eternal rest, grant unto him, we pray," began Sir Firecam, "and let perpetual Light shine upon him. May his soul rest in peace. Amen."

Hermione simply held Harry's hand through it all.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Harry awoke bright and early on the morning of July thirty-first. He was excited for the day, not only because it was his sixteenth birthday, but also because a few of his friends were coming to Hogwarts to celebrate with him. They would be arriving for lunch and then staying for a few hours in the afternoon.

Harry rose from bed and quickly went through his morning routine. Bounding down the stairs, he was met by an excited Hermione Granger.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" she exclaimed as she practically jumped onto him to give him a hug. "How does it feel to be sixteen?"

Harry laughed. "You should know, you've been sixteen for almost a year now."

"Yes, well… are you excited to see everyone?"

It seemed to Harry that Hermione was more excited for his birthday than he was.

"Sure, it should be fun."

The two Gryffindors went down to breakfast and then made their way outside for Harry's daily appointment with Sir Firecam. All the while, Hermione kept up her happier than usual demeanor.

"What's got you so cheerful today?" Harry asked as he set up the wooden dummy for his training session.

"Can't a girl just be happy that it's her best friend's birthday?" Hermione responded with a smile.

"I suppose."

"Besides, I guess I'm just looking forward to seeing everyone. Not to say that I haven't enjoyed the last few weeks just you and me, because I have, but I think it will be nice to catch up with the others. You may or may not know this, but I _am_ a girl, and you, Mr. Potter, are sorely lacking when it comes to girl-talk."

"I'm well aware that you're a girl, Hermione. And besides, isn't it a good thing that I can't do girl-talk?"

"Maybe."

Hermione seemed to drop the conversation, so Harry let it slide. Keldorn showed up a few moments later, but instead of his normal clothing and scattered pieces or armor, he was wearing what looked like a thick, quilted jacket as well as a padded glove on his right hand.

"Good morning, Harry, Miss Hermione, I trust you are well rested?" said the old knight in greeting.

"Good morning, sir," responded Harry while Hermione simply waved.

"I thought we might progress a bit further today, if you can manage not to trip over your own two feet too much during the footwork, that is."

"Sounds good to me," responded Harry.

Hermione conjured herself a simple, wooden stool as Harry picked up his sword and shield and took his guard position. He noticed, however, that the witch hadn't yet produced a book to read.

"Erm… aren't you going to read or something?" Harry questioned her.

"Oh, I thought I would just watch this morning. See if there's anything worth-while to observe," replied Hermione.

"Alright then."

Harry managed to make it through the round of footwork drills with minimal correction needed. Keldorn eventually halted the exercise and instructed Harry to put down his weapons. Harry did so carefully, having learned his lesson about not taking proper care of his equipment.

The old man then reached into a small pouch on his belt and pulled out another thick, quilted jacket like the one he was wearing.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Hermione, "do you have an Undetectable Extension Charm on that pouch?" she asked in a moment of unrestrained academic curiosity.

"Well, I'm not sure what you would call it here," responded the knight, "but where I am from, we simply call this a 'Belt of Many Things.' Its pouches are enchanted to have many times more the carrying capacity of normal belt pouches. Most paladins use them due to our itinerant nature. If you are simple enough in your lifestyle, you can carry everything you own on your very person this way."

"That's amazing!" the young witch replied, "would you mind if I took a look at it while the two of you are practicing?"

In response, the knight simply detached one of his other pouches and tossed it to Hermione.

He then handed the jacket to Harry and instructed him to put it on. It was a bit of a struggle for Harry as the jacket was fastened by a series of straps that went up the center of his back. In the end he had to divert Hermione's attention from the magical pouch for a moment and get her assistance. Meanwhile, Keldorn retrieved two padded, wicker helmets from his belt along with another padded glove.

"Be sure to thank Professor McGonagall the next time you see her for making this equipment for us. She is quite good at transforming one thing into another."

He then put on one of the helmets and instructed Harry to do likewise, also handing Harry the protective glove.

"Right," began the knight. "I think you've spent enough time working on your fine control of the blade to move on. Today you will start learning to parry your opponent's attacks. Obviously, using your shield is the best option, but it is necessary to use the sword for defense as well. There are several different parries that you must learn, just as you've learned several different ways to strike your opponent.

"Which parry you use is dependant on where and how your opponent attacks. If he attacks in-line, you need only deflect his blade enough so that the point will miss. Wildly swinging your sword or shield to batter his out of the way merely wastes your energy and leaves you open to attack…"

Keldorn spent the next twenty minutes or so explaining and then demonstrating different ways to move and position the shield and then the sword in order to parry an opponent's attacks. The parries each had a particular, odd name like 'Sixte,' 'Quarte,' and 'Tierce.' Keldorn would attack Harry and then call out the proper parry for Harry to use in response. They started off rather slowly, but after about half an hour, they gradually began moving faster.

Harry was often too slow with his parries, which he learned meant that the knight would follow through with his attack and hit him. He was grateful for the protective clothing and for the fact that the knight was clearly holding himself back, but the hits still stung a bit. As always, Keldorn demanded that Harry's form and technique were perfect and gave a constant stream of corrections. Harry also found that he needed to remember to keep his feet in position and not give in to the temptation of letting his legs straighten.

Hermione split her attention between watching Harry and examining the knight's magically extended pouch.

"Right, that's enough for today," said the knight as the sun moved toward midday. "Take the sword and shield with you and practice your footwork, blade control and parries as often as you can. The only way to learn is through repetition. Now go clean yourself up and get ready for your party."

OoOoO

OoOoO

A short while later, Hermione and a freshly showered Harry made their way down to Hagrid's hut since the Gamekeeper had graciously offered to host the small birthday party. The kind half-giant had two long picnic tables set up outside, one for the guests to sit and eat at, with the other serving as a buffet and was covered with a wide selection of different foods. There was fried chicken, hamburgers, sausages, potato salad, pasta, several bowls of different types of crisps and baked beans, to name a few of the dishes available as well as several different types of beverages. Harry guessed that Hagrid had once again talked the House Elves into cooking for the gathering.

They arrived just in time to see several heads of red hair come around from the other side of the hut.

"Harry!" exclaimed Ginny, who then ran over to give him a quick hug. "Happy birthday!"

"Alright, Gin, let the man breathe," said Ron as he approached. Once Ginny had relinquished her hold, the youngest male Weasley slapped Harry on the back and said, "Happy birthday, Mate!"

Harry was also treated to a suffocating hug from Mrs. Weasley as well as a handshake from the Weasley patriarch before he was ambushed by the twins.

"Harry!"

"The little brother we never had," began the twins, taking turns speaking,

"Sixteen years old,"

"My, my, time goes by so fast, can you believe it Fred?"

"Wait a minute, I thought I was Fred."

"No you're George, I'm Fred."

"No, I was George yesterday, that means today I get to be Fred."

"But I want to be Fred; everyone knows he's the handsome one."

"Boys, behave," interrupted Molly Weasley, "don't make me regret bringing you two along."

"So how's the summer going at Hogwarts, Harry? Hermione keeping you locked in the library all day?" Ron asked with a smile. That question earned him a glare from Hermione and a smack to the back of the head from Ginny.

"Don't mind him," said Ginny, "he's been even more of an idiot since he decided '_Accio brain!_' was a stellar decision."

"Oh har har, Gin-Gin."

Neither of the youngest Weasleys noticed the sober expression that Harry took on at the mention of the Battle. Hermione, however, reclaimed his attention from his memories by grabbing his arm and pointing to the pathway.

"Harry, look!" exclaimed the brunette, "Neville and Luna are here."

The two newcomers walked up to the party together. Neville shook Harry's hand while Luna merely stopped in front of him and stared at him with her large, silvery, grey eyes.

"Hello Harry Potter," she said in her usual melodious tone, "Happy Birthday. I've never been to a birthday party at Hogwarts before. Do you think we'll play any party games? I hope so. I've been practicing my caber tossing just incase. I hope there's pudding too."

Dumbledore and Sir Firecam also arrived and eventually everyone sat down to eat. Lunch finished with Hagrid producing a large cake topped by sixteen candles.

"Made it meself," he told Harry with pride, "happy birthday!"

Everyone ate dessert while Harry opened a few gifts, mostly sweets from his friends and a few pranks from the twins.

"You need to stop by the new shop in Diagon Ally," said Fred.

"You'll have a blast," added George.

Hermione surprised him with a book on fencing.

"I thought it was appropriate, what with your new hobby."

"Wha obby id at?" Ron asked around a mouthful of cake. Hermione rolled her eyes, but it was ultimately Keldorn who answered.

"I've been teaching young Harry here a bit of swordsmanship this summer."

Neville seemed to perk up with interest at that, but Ron commented before anyone else could get a word in.

"Blimey!" he said after he'd swallowed his cake. "What d'ya need to know how to sword fight for?"

"Well, there hasn't really been all that much _fighting_ involved," Harry answered with a smile and a glance at Sir Firecam, "more like learning how to move my feet and poking at a dummy with a wooden sword. It's not quite as glamorous as you would imagine."

"I think it sounds interesting," said Neville.

"Me too," said Ginny.

"It really is quite fascinating," interjected Hermione. "Not that I've participated myself, but I have watched a bit. It seems to have a lot of history attached to it and it takes a lot of concentration and precision. Harry's been quite disciplined in his efforts, I would say."

After dessert was finished, Dumbledore bid everyone farewell and departed to take care of some business. The boys were discussing the possibility of putting together a quick pick-up Quidditch match and the girls were beginning to talk amongst themselves when Hagrid interrupted by clearing his throat.

"Err, pardon me, everyone, but there's summat I'd like to show Harry here. You lot can come to if you'd like."

The Gamekeeper led the group a little ways away to the series of barns and outbuildings that were usually used to house different magical creatures at Hogwarts. There, in one of the fenced in pens was a familiar grey hippogriff.

"Ooo, he's very pretty," said Luna.

"Buckbeak!" exclaimed Harry as he quickened his stride and entered the enclosed space. He bowed to the large creature, which bowed back in return. Harry then walked up to the hippogriff and began to pat it on the neck.

"How'd you get here?" Harry asked the creature who seemed to be rather enjoying Harry's attention.

It was Hagrid that answered, "Well we couldn' jus' let him stay at headquarters all alone anymore, an' Dumbledore thought no one would really recognized him anymore 'round here. So, here he is, our Beaky's back ter stay!"

"A magnificent animal," said Keldorn as he ran his hand over the hippogriff's flank. Harry was a bit surprised that the knight was able to approach the creature without going through the bowing ritual first, but he supposed that Keldorn knew what he was doing.

"I've known knights that have rode hippogriffs like this one into battle. A fearsome sight they were too, swooping down out of the sun to terrorize the enemy. Very noble and intelligent creatures, hippogriffs."

Buckbeak seemed to stand up a bit straighter at the knight's words. It almost looked like he was trying to present himself as the noble warrior that Keldorn described other hippogriffs to be.

Unlike Keldorn, Hermione was careful to bow to the hippogriff before approaching. Once she was acknowledged, she came forward to stand next to Harry and hesitantly placed a hand on the creature.

"It's been a while, Buckbeak," she said, "no offense, but I hope you don't have any flights in store for me any time soon."

OoOoO

OoOoO

Sometime later, after they had all caught up with Buckbeak, the teenagers left Hagrid and Keldorn with the animal and headed as a group toward the Quidditch pitch, while Molly and Arthur went for a walk around the lake. The girls sat in the stands and talked while the boys started a half pitch Quidditch match. Ron played keeper while Harry teemed up with Fred to take on Neville and George. They tried to get the girls to play as well, citing the need for more players for a better game, but the ladies were having none of it.

"Hermione has been cooped up here with no female companionship for quite some time. We have some important things to discuss," Ginny authoritatively stated. "Now go away before I start to get annoyed."

As the sun lowered toward the horizon, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley reappeared and summoned everyone to them. It was getting late and it was time to return home. So with a few hugs and final 'happy birthdays,' the visitors departed and Harry and Hermione made their way to dinner.

Later that night in the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry sat down next to Hermione on the couch in front of the fire.

"Thanks again for the fencing book, Hermione. The first chapter's pretty interesting. Fencing is pretty different from what I'm learning, but there's some similarities too."

"You're welcome, Harry," the young witch said in reply. "I'm glad you're enjoying it."

They chatted for a few minutes before Harry stood up from the couch.

"Well," he announced, "I'm off to bed. Thanks again for the book."

Hermione stood as well.

"You're welcome, Harry."

Then she did something she had never done before, she walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek.

"Happy birthday, Harry."

And before the stunned wizard could form a reply, Hermione escaped up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

* * *

**AN: Well, this chapter simply took **_**forever**_** to write. My muse just wasn't working. I think I need to get some action going once again. What do you think? I know that the chapter isn't very exciting, but I needed to set up a few things for later. It's also quite a bit longer than normal, over shooting the mark by almost 2,000 words. But there just isn't anywhere to naturally break it up.**

**Oh well. **

**The last chapter didn't get as many hits or reviews as the previous one. Am I going too slowly? Should I speed things up? Comments and criticisms are welcome. I'm willing to answer questions and offer clarifications about things too, so don't be afraid to ask.**

**Thanks to everyone who's left a comment so far; I always love hearing from you.**

**Please leave a review and tell me what you think.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	8. VIII

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

VIII

The first two weeks of August continued in much the same vein as July. Harry spent his mornings with Keldorn working on his sword and shield skills. After about eight weeks of work on his technique, Harry was finally allowed the chance to test himself against the knight himself in a few bouts, but that was only if Harry was able to satisfy his teacher during the initial rounds of footwork, baldework and parries that occupied at least the first hour of practice each morning. Keldorn was obviously going easy on Harry, but even with that advantage, Harry found it downright impossible to land a touch on his opponent.

"Do not fret, young Harry," the old knight would say, "I have been a swordsman for decades and you are just beginning. If you were able to challenge me it would not speak so much of your skill but my incompetence. You are doing well."

Still, it would have been nice to be able to spar with someone that was closer to his own skill level. Hermione was adamantly against joining the sword training, although she did often come to watch. She would faithfully cheer for Harry, but often broke into laughter when he was disarmed or thoroughly trounced. Truth be told, Harry was glad that Hermione refused to take part in the sword training; he didn't want to spar with her. Something about the thought of squaring off against Hermione with a weapon in his hand made Harry very uncomfortable, almost ill.

After spending so much time on martial arts training, Harry did notice a decline in his anger. While he had greatly improved after Hermione's first appearance of the summer and their subsequent discussion, Harry still found himself getting angry at times. But the constant exertion as well as the mental and physical discipline required in learning to handle a sword seemed to be keeping Harry's anger in check.

Hermione spent most of her mornings reading outside where she could keep an eye on Harry and Keldorn. Harry wasn't sure why she preferred to be outside with him instead of in her usual domain of the library, but a part of him knew it had something to do with the way he had avoided her at the end of the previous school year. Hermione wasn't going to let him out of her sight much more than she absolutely had to.

Hermione finished the _Codex Luminis_ after a little more than a week of reading and had moved on to other topics. She was currently doing reading for a combined transfiguration and enchantment project that Hermione had discussed with Professor McGonagall and was well over Harry's head. Harry had borrowed the _Codex_ out of curiosity after Hermione finished with it, but he had yet to make it past the first chapter.

The two Gryffindors spent most of their afternoons together, occupied in some leisurely activity or another. Harry was secretly impressed with Hermione's willingness to put her books down and simply spend time with him.

One such afternoon found them down by the lake lying on the soft, green grass near the water. Harry had a small pile of pebbles next to him and he would occasionally pick one up and toss it into the lake, creating a soft _plop_ that broke the silence.

"I wonder if Ron is going to get together with Lavender this year." Hermione suddenly said out of nowhere.

"Where did that come from?" Harry asked in response. It wasn't like Hermione to begin conversations about the teenage romances that pervaded Hogwarts other than to complain about having to break up randy couples during her prefect rounds.

"Oh, Lavender and Parvati were talking about him a lot toward the end of the year. You can't be roommates with those two without overhearing their conversations about boys more often than you'd like. Apparently Lavender is quite interested in our red-haired friend."

"Oh."

"They were always trying to devise strategies for getting Ron to notice her and ask her out."

"Like what?" asked Harry.

"Oh just simple things really; spend more time around him, show an interest in the things he's interested in, and be supportive of him. You know, subtlety let him know that she's interested in him in that way."

"Good luck with that."

"Why do you say that? You don't think Ron would like her?" responded Hermione.

"No, that's not it."

"Then why don't you think it would work?"

"Well, Ron's not really all that observant, is he? I don't think he would notice the subtle approach. Most blokes probably wouldn't for that matter."

Hermione looked away from Harry at that point and grumbled something under her breath.

"What was that?" asked Harry.

"Nothing."

"Well anyways, I think that if Lavender really wants to get Ron's attention, she should just ask him out. Or maybe snog him in the middle of the common room."

"Harry!"

"What? It's true! No bloke in his right mind would turn down a nice snog."

"No _girl_ in her right mind would want to do something like that. It would make her look desperate. Girls want the guy to make the first move."

"Well that's hardly fair."

"Life isn't fair, Harry, but that's the way it is. If a guy fancies a girl, he's supposed to make the first move and ask her out on a date."

"What's got you so interested in Ron's love life all of a sudden anyways? Do you fancy him?"

"No way! Could you even remotely see that working out? Ron's a good friend, but I wouldn't want to spend every other minute arguing with my boyfriend."

"Well, why're you so worried about it then?"

Hermione let out a long sigh.

"Never mind," she said, letting the topic drop. The two lapsed into silence once again.

Some time later, Hermione suddenly sat up, pointed to the sky and exclaimed, "Harry, look! There's two owls heading our way."

"So?" questioned the young wizard.

"_So_, it could be our O.W.L. results! They're supposed to be coming in sometime soon! What if it's them?" Hermione asked, working herself into a near panic.

"Well, I suppose we'll take a look at them then," responded Harry.

The owls were indeed heading for Harry and Hermione and as they landed they extended an official-looking envelope to each of the teenagers.

Harry quickly untied his envelope from the bird's foot while Hermione approached hers with something bordering on reverence. Harry was about to rip his open to see his scores when he noticed that Hermione was simply staring down at her envelope with her hands slightly shaking.

"Hermione?" he asked, slightly concerned.

"Oh, Harry! What if I've failed them all?!"

"Umm, I really doubt that _you_ failed all your O.W.L.s, Hermione."

"I just can't look," said the witch as she thrust her results into Harry's chest. "You open it for me and tell me if I failed everything."

With a roll of his eyes, Harry put his own results aside and tore open Hermione's. Harry's eyes widened as he looked over her results.

"That's not good…" Harry said quietly.

"_What?! What's not good?!_" Hermione shrieked, now in a full-blown panic as she ripped her results out of Harry's hand so that she could see them for herself.

"Oh you only got ten O.W.L.s," Harry said laughing, "nine O's and one E. The look on your face…"

"Harry Potter! You are a huge prat!" said Hermione before punching him in the shoulder. When this failed to make the wizard stop laughing, she hit him three times more.

"Ow! Okay, okay, I'm sorry!"

"You better be… making me think I failed out of school. You shouldn't tease me like that. Well, go on then, open yours up, let's see what you've got."

Harry ripped open his envelope and pulled out the results.

Astronomy: A

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Charms: E

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Divination: P

Herbology: E

History of Magic: D

Potions: E

Transfiguration: E

Harry then handed his scores over the his best friend as he knew that she would be almost as curious about his scores as she was about her own.

"Oh, well done Harry!" Hermione said as she leaned over to give him a hug. "Seven O.W.L.s is a really good showing.

"Not as good as ten," Harry shot back, making the young witch blush.

Hermione then leapt to her feet and started pulling Harry up by his left arm.

"Come on, Harry! Let's go read up on the N.E.W.T. courses that we'll be able to take," she said as she dragged him toward the castle. "The library has lots of information that will help us get a head start!"

Harry didn't argue, but simply smiled as he allowed himself to be dragged off to the library.

OoOoO

OoOoO

A few days later, Professor McGonagall handed an envelope to each of her two resident Gryffindors during lunch. It was only the three of them at the meal that day, as Keldorn had said he had things to attend to that afternoon. Dumbledore and Hagrid were also missing.

"Here you are, Miss Granger and Mr. Potter, your Hogwarts letters and booklists for the next term. And Mr. Potter, I would like to be the first to offer my congratulations."

Harry was a bit puzzled by his Head of House's statement as she added no further clarification, so he opened up his letter to see what she was talking about.

"I've been named Gryffindor Quidditch Captain," Harry stated to the table at large.

"Oh well done, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as she leaned over to give him a hug. "I knew you'd get it. And you'll be able to use the prefect's bathroom now too!"

"Just remember, you two," said McGonagall from across the table, "I don't want to see any inappropriate behavior while you're staying alone in Gryffindor Tower. If I do, I can easily find another Quidditch Captain."

The two teenagers quickly separated and both turned red. Though Hermione couldn't help but send a few glances in Harry's direction in spite of once again being embarrassed by the Deputy Headmistress.

Harry cleared his throat and looked over his booklist.

"Well, at least I won't need to buy _Advanced Potion-Making_ by Libatius Borage," said Harry in an attempt to move the conversation on to a different topic.

"Why ever not, Mr. Potter? You can't be thinking of dropping Potions if you still want to become an Auror," said McGonagall.

"Well, I thought you needed an O in your Potions O.W.L. to get into Snape's N.E.W.T. class," replied Harry.

"True," responded the Deputy Headmistress, "but _Professor_ Snape will not be teaching Potions this year." This pronouncement caught both Harry and Hermione by surprise. "The Headmaster has granted him his wish to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Your Exceeds Expectations will therefore be sufficient for you to continue your potions classes."

"You've _got_ to be kidding me!" groaned Harry. "Please tell me you're taking the mickey, Professor."

"I'm afraid not; Professor Snape will be teaching DADA while Horace Slughorn will be returning to the staff to teach Potions once again."

"Great, just great," muttered Harry.

"Don't worry, Harry," said Hermione as she gave Harry a comforting pat on the shoulder, "I'm sure it will be fine."

"In any event," McGonagall carried on, "you two need to give some thought to which N.E.W.T. courses you would like to take this year. We can get your courses scheduled now instead of on the first day of term if you'd like since you're already here. I suppose we'll also have to arrange for you to visit to Diagon Ally."

After a few moments of silence, Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm as her eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Harry, look!" said exclaimed while waving her letter about, "the school is offering an optional riding elective this year." She then turned her attention to the Deputy Headmistress, "Please tell me it's a horse riding course."

"Among other things, but yes horse riding will be included," responded McGonagall.

"Why is Hogwarts offering a horse riding course all of a sudden?" Harry questioned.

"The Headmaster decided to add the elective in order to offer Sir Firecam a place on the faculty. He is supposed to be a very proficient rider, among his many other talents, or so I am told."

Harry might have been seeing things, but he was certain that he caught the hint of a smile form on McGonagall's lips as she spoke of the old knight.

"Oh Harry, please say you'll take riding with me!" Hermione pleaded as she once again latched onto Harry's arm.

Harry looked at his best friend in surprise.

"I didn't know you liked horseback riding so much."

"Well, I don't really know if do, like it that is. But I always wanted to learn how to ride as a little girl, but my parents never let me. Please say you'll take it with me."

Harry found his current situation to be a bit odd. Hermione had never pleaded with him to take a course with her before. But here she was, looking at him with puppy dog eyes and pouting lips.

_I wonder why she didn't do this back in third year to try and get me to take a real elective Like Ancient Runes instead of Divination,_ Harry thought to himself. _She does look kind of cute like that…_

Harry then remembered the fun he had riding Buckbeak and the thestrals, which, along with the look Hermione was giving him, made his decision easy.

"Alright, I'll take riding with you."

This statement earned him another hug.

The rest of the meal was spent deciding what other courses the two students would take. McGonagall said she would duly record their selections for them and that they would be excused from the course selection meetings on the first day of term.

OoOoO

OoOoO

A few days later found Harry and Hermione in Diagon Alley. They were being escorted by Tonks, Hagrid and, to Harry's surprise, Keldorn. They traveled by floo from the Headmaster's office to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was a bit dismayed to see how empty the tavern was and once outside, how deserted Diagon Ally itself seemed. It appeared that the Ministry's public acknowledgement of the return of Voldemort had a lot of people too scared to go out in public.

Several of the shops were closed and boarded up, including Fortescue's Ice-cream Parlor and Ollivander's wand shop. Harry questioned Tonks about the closed stores.

"Why are so many places boarded up?"

"People are scared, Harry. After Fortescue and old Ollivander went missing, a lot of the shop owners decided staying open wasn't worth the risk with the Death Eaters around and all. But don't worry, there's still plenty to do here in old Diagon Alley."

Tonks' bright and cheerful words were somewhat belied by the way she kept herself on constant alert, always glancing about for any sort of trouble. Keldorn also seemed to be on constant lookout, although his demeanor was much subtler than the young Auror's.

The small group managed to get to Gringotts and then make most of their purchases without any incidents. The heavy sense of disquiet that pervaded the ally made none of them wish to remain any longer than necessary. Hermione was even convinced to leave Flourish & Blotts after only moderate prodding. Everyone was agreed, however, that they needed to pay a visit to the newly opened Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Harry!" shouted Fred as they entered the bright and colorful store. "Georgie look! The great Harry Potter has deemed to visit our humble store!"

George made his way through the crowded store to greet the newcomers.

"Well now, Fred, if it isn't our favorite investor."

"Not to mention our only investor."

"Be that as it may, he's still our favorite."

"Right as rain that is."

"We'll have to set him and his lovely lady up with some samples then, won't we?"

Hermione colored a bit while Harry interrupted the twins before they could really get going.

"This place is great. And there's so many people here; the rest of the ally is basically deserted," he said.

"Well, people need a good laugh when things are getting tough, as my mum always said," answered George.

"Mum never said that," replied his twin.

"Never you mind what she didn't say, just focus on what she _might_ have said."

"She might have said a lot of things, especially that time she caught you and Angelina in dad's shed."

"Oi! You keep quiet about that! You'll be giving poor, innocent Hermione and Harry-kins ideas you will."

"I'm sure they've had '_ideas_' aplenty already, what with them being all alone together in Gryffindor Tower this summer."

"_Well_," interrupted Hermione with a rather loud voice, her face bright red, "I think we'll just have a look around then. It's good to see you, Fred, George." With that, the embarrassed witch scampered off to look through the store.

"Bit touchy, that one," said Fred.

"Well anyways, have a look around, Harry," said George. "Help yourself to whatever you please; your money's no good here. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be in business."

The group separated to peruse the store. Harry thought that the Decoy Detonators might come in handy and was highly amused by the signs advertising "U-No-Poo." He came across Tonks laughing hysterically near the fake wands as someone vainly attempted to fight off one of the prank wands as it tried to beat them about the head. He even noticed Keldorn laughing as he tried on one of the Headless Hats and looked at himself in the mirror. Harry also spied Hermione chewing her lip as she looked at a display of love potions before she shook her head, turned and walked away.

In the end, Harry tried to pay for a few Decoy Detonators, but true to their word, the twins wouldn't accept his money. Instead they loaded Harry and Hermione's arms with an assortment of different items and pushed them out the door before they could object.

"Goodbye you two," said Fred.

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do," added George.

"Which admittedly isn't much."

"Especially if Alicia Spinnet is making eyes at you."

"Oi! Quiet you!"

Tonks helpfully shrunk down the assorted wheezes so that Harry and Hermione could add them to their other purchases in their pockets. The group then began walking back toward the Leaky Cauldron.

The ally was still quite deserted as they walked down the cobblestone street. Keldorn was eyeing a group of rough looking wizards when he suddenly drew his sword. Harry looked to see that the five black-robed wizards reacted by drawing their wands and pointing them at him and his friends.

"_To arms!_" Keldorn shouted as their attackers began to send bright bursts of spellfire their way. Harry watched as shining plate armor somehow unfolded from within the few pieces that the old knight always wore around his collar and shoulders, and within a moment covered the knight in gleaming metal plates. His mirrored shield appeared on his left arm as he ran toward their attackers.

"You two!" Tonks yelled as she drew her wand and set up a shield, "get over by that building and get down! Find some cover if you can!"

Harry and Hermione drew their wands and moved to do as the Auror ordered them. Hagrid meanwhile was swinging his fists at one of the dark wizards as various spells bounced off of his thick, half-giant skin.

Suddenly the ground burst with a deafening blast as a deadly green curse impacted in front of Harry and Hermione, showering them with shattered bits of rock and tossing them backwards.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted frantically as he looked over to her. His attention was diverted, however, when he noticed the two wizards that had likely cast the spell were headed his way. Anger began to course through him as he pointed his wand at the one on the left.

"_Stupefy!_" he shouted, sending a red bolt of magic at his attackers.

The wizard in question dodged out of the way and returned fire.

Harry cast a hurried Shield Charm and looked back to Hermione. Thankfully she was moving and soon crouched next to Harry.

"Keep your shield up, Harry, I'll throw some hexes and then we'll make a break for the building."

Harry simply nodded.

"_Stupefy! Confringo!_ _Tarantallegra!_" Hermione cried as she rose to her feet. The two wizards were able to dodge her first two spells, but one of them was caught by the third and began dancing uncontrollably. Harry and Hermione used the opportunity to sprint to the side of one of the buildings and duck around the corner for cover.

Once there, they looked back to the ally and prepared to cast again. However, their two assailants had apparently thought better of pursuing the teenagers and had instead turned their attention to the other members of the group.

Harry saw that Tonks was frantically trying to duel three wizards at once while Hagrid was lying on the ground, bound from the knees to the waist in thick, heavy chains. One wizard cast a dark purple spell at Keldorn who simply blocked it with his shield; the spell bounced off of the mirrored surface and returned to strike the caster in the face, who then dropped his wand and went down to the ground, howling and writhing in pain. Keldorn then gestured toward Hagrid with his sword, and with a flash of white light, the chains binding the half giant shattered.

"I'm going to help Tonks, stay here," Harry said before stepping out into the street. He was quickly yanked back around the corner by Hermione.

"Tonks told us to stay here!" shouted the young witch.

"She needs help! I'm not going to hide while she's fighting three of them by herself!"

"Then I'm coming too!"

"No!" vehemently screamed Harry, "it's too dangerous!"

"I can take care of myself!" replied the now indignant witch.

"There's no time for this!" cried Harry in anger and frustration. He quickly pointed his wand at Hermione's legs and shouted, "_Incarcerous!_" A thin rope wrapped around Hermione's lower legs from her ankles to her knees. The unexpected spell made her lose her balance and tumble to the ground.

"_Harry!_" she screamed in anger, but the wizard made use of her incapacitation to leave her behind and sprint out into the battle, shooting off spells as he ran.

One of the wizards that had been fighting Tonks was now lying motionlessly on the ground, but Tonks was clutching a bloody right shoulder with her off hand and seemed to be faltering under the assault of her two remaining opponents. Keldorn had managed to close the distance with the other wizard that was still standing, and Harry saw the knight's sword, now shining brilliantly with golden light, slash through the man's midsection before he dropped to the ground in a heap.

Harry stopped running and took more careful aim at one of the two wizards that were still standing.

"_Stupefy!_" he shouted. His target was aware enough to erect a shield that blocked his spell, but this pulled his attention away from Tonks. Hagrid and Keldorn began running toward the two wizards that now suddenly found themselves outnumbered and on the defensive.

The attackers seemed to realize that they were going to lose, and with a quick nod to each other, reached into their robes and then disappeared.

Tonks, her left hand still holding her bloody shoulder, quickly sent Stunners into each of the three downed wizards before binding them with magical ropes.

All in all, the skirmish probably took less than two minutes.

Keldorn sheathed his sword and approached Tonks while Harry as well as Hagrid also made their way over.

"Where is Hermione?" the knight in shining armor quickly asked.

"She's fine. I left her behind that corner," replied Harry as he gestured blindly behind himself.

Keldorn looked at Tonks' bleeding shoulder and then asked, "Is anyone else injured?"

"No," Harry replied as Hagrid simply shook his head.

Nodding, the old knight then laid his hands on Tonks' head and closed his eyes. After a moment Tonks stiffened and gasped. Keldorn moved away, and Tonks inspected her shoulder to see that the bleeding had stopped and the wound was closed, not even leaving a scar.

"How'd you do that?" asked the surprised Auror.

Harry, however, missed the reply because he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see who was behind him only to be painfully punched in the face. Harry dropped, sprawled out on the ground, clutching at his throbbing left eye. He looked up to see Hermione with fists clenched and angry tears in her eyes. Her entire body was shaking with rage.

"_Harry Potter!_" she screamed down at him. "_You are an utter ass!_" She then turned on her heel and stormed away.

Keldorn, Tonks and Hagrid stood there stunned, eyes moving between the wizard lying on the ground with the clear beginnings of a swollen and bruised eye, and the retreating back of the irate witch that put him there.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" exclaimed Tonks, "What'd you do to Hermione?"

Harry didn't reply. Instead, he simply sat on the ground and watched Hermione stalk away from him. As he began to hear the tell-tale popping sounds of Aurors apparating to the scene of the disturbance, Harry found himself dreading his eventual return to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

**AN: Hopefully that spices things up a bit.**

**I got a lot of positive comments from Chapter VII about the pacing and the story in general, so I guess things must be progressing to most people's liking. If you disagree, let me know.**

**What did you think of the battle? How about Harry's actions? Does it seem like something he would do?**

**Thanks to everyone who has commented so far, you're all wonderful and beautiful people.**

**Please take a moment to leave a review, I want to know what you have to say!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	9. IX

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

IX

The next few days weren't all that great for Harry Potter.

After the Aurors took the three captured wizards into custody, Harry along with the other members of his group had to go to the Ministry to make formal statements about the incident. They were there for several hours and the fact that Harry's eye was swollen and bruised didn't help his mood one bit. In his anger, Harry flat out refused medical treatment, a decision he would soon regret as he later found out that Madam Pomfrey was on vacation and thus no medical attention was available at Hogwarts. If Hermione's red, swollen hand had bothered her, she made no mention of it. She was, however, smart enough to accept a few healing spells for it.

The next morning's _Daily Prophet_ didn't help to alleviate Harry's anger one bit. Harry saw a copy left on the table in the Great Hall and picked it up.

_DEATH EATERS ATTACK DIAGON ALLY!_

_CHOSEN ONE & KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR FIGHT THEM OFF!_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Witnesses report that a battle took place in Diagon Ally yesterday. Sources say that Harry Potter, known to most as the Boy Who Lived or more recently as the Chosen One, and a group of companions were attacked by several Death Eaters while shopping in London's landmark wizarding district._

_Rather than turning tail and running like a coward, as some might have tried to label him in the past, Harry Potter was witnessed fighting back against the Death Eaters, just as he did in the reported battle at the Ministry's Department of Mysteries this past June. This time, however, Potter did not fight alone. With him was an honest-to-Merlin knight in shining armor. That's right ladies, sources say that a tall, handsome man was witnessed on the scene wearing a set of medieval armor and brandishing a sword and a shield. It is also claimed that this as of yet unidentified knight took down two of the Death Eaters himself while our very own Harry Potter handled the others._

_When the Aurors finally arrived, three Death Eaters were on the ground and quickly taken into custody, while two escaped despite the efforts of Potter and his armored companion._

_Just who is this new anonymous hero? Where did he come from? Is he a new ally of the Chosen One or just a passerby that was in the right place at the right time? And perhaps the question most important to our readers' hearts, is he already taken, or is he single and available like his comrade in arms and the Daily Prophet's Number One Heartthrob Harry Potter? Readers want to know._

_For more on the battle, see page 4._

_For interviews with witnesses of the battle, see pages 5-6._

_For a look back at June's battle in the Department of Mysteries, see pages 9-11_

_For speculation on Harry Potter's love life, see pages 15-21._

Harry threw the paper down to the table in disgust. The article made him out to be some sort of hero when he barely did a thing. He didn't even land a single spell on any of the Death Eaters. Tonks, who had taken on three of the Death Eaters by herself wasn't even mentioned and neither were Hagrid or Hermione. The paper only served to ignite Harry's anger once again.

To make matters worse, ever since she had so eloquently called him an "utter ass" and punched him in the face, Hermione Granger hadn't said one word to Harry Potter. If he entered a room where she was she would either ignore him or get up and leave. She also started going to meals early so that she wouldn't have to sit with him at the table.

Harry's fallout with Hermione hurt much more than his black eye ever could. They had been getting along so well that summer; Harry really thought that their friendship was better than it ever had been before. He had felt extremely close to her, spending so much time together just being with each other. And now she apparently wanted nothing to do with him. Harry had no idea what to do. This was exactly the situation he was afraid of after the Department of Mysteries, but with her unwillingness to even speak with him, there didn't seem to be much he could do to fix it.

Harry still spent his mornings learning to sword fight with Keldorn, and he took to it energetically. He had to channel all of his anger into something after all. But it was strange not having Hermione's silent support there with him. The old knight seemed aware of the strained relationship between the two teenagers, as did the other summer residents of the castle, but they all declined to comment upon it. Harry wasn't sure if that was good or bad; he was glad he didn't have to talk about it, but he was also sure that he could use some advice. Unfortunately, all of Harry's father figures were either dead and gone like Sirius, or too busy taking care of other things to worry about two squabbling teenagers like Dumbledore.

All in all, Harry was miserable.

OoOoO

OoOoO

"Quinte!" barked the old knight.

Harry, however, moved his blade into the wrong position.

"I said 'Quinte,' boy, not 'Quarte!'" Keldorn shouted as he sharply rapped Harry on the side of the head with his wooden sword. Thankfully, Harry was wearing his protective wicker helmet.

It was five days after the skirmish in Diagon Ally and Sir Firecam thought it would be a good idea to try working on fighting without a shield. Harry was therefore learning a new set of parries to use when he was wielding his sword two-handed. It didn't help that these new parries had the same names as the others he had already learned, but were in slightly different positions. So far it wasn't going very well.

"Stop!" cried Keldorn before removing his helmet. "I do not enjoy wasting my time. Where is your head today?"

Harry removed his own helmet before thinking of a reply.

"I don't know. I just can't concentrate."

"Let your concentration slip like that with slaves of the Darkness around and you might not walk away."

That comment only served to make Harry angry.

"I'm well aware of what makes someone unable to _walk away_ from Death Eaters!"

Keldorn simply stared at Harry for a moment before walking over to the bench and sitting down.

"Sit down, boy," said the knight, "you've been angry since we came back from the ally and the exercise isn't helping it. So tell me what's bothering you and get it off your chest."

"What do you care?" Harry replied in the way that only surly teenagers could manage.

"Are you angry because you've turned into a petulant child? Because that is certainly bothering me."

Harry sighed. He considered making another snarky comment, but then thought better of it. He had wished for a father figure to talk to, after all.

"It's Hermione. She won't speak to me. Won't even look at me."

"What exactly did you do in the ally to make her angry enough to hit you like that? You never told us and your eye is still black and blue."

"Tonks told us to take cover," Harry began telling the story, "and we did. But once we got around the corner I saw that while you were fighting two of them, Tonks was taking on three by herself. I knew she couldn't last long doing that, so I decided to go back out and fight. Hermione wanted to come with me and I told her no, but she wouldn't listen. So I, well…"

"Yes?"

"So I cast a binding spell on her legs so she couldn't follow me," Harry said with his head bowed.

"Well that was a damn fool thing to do, boy."

"Obviously," Harry said pointing to his eye.

"No, you fool; you could have gotten her killed!"

That made Harry take pause.

"You mean to tell me, that in the middle of a pitched battle, you cast a restraining spell on not only your ally but your _friend_ while deadly magic was being thrown about? Are you a complete fool?"

Harry swallowed; he'd never seen the old knight get this angry before.

"You took away her mobility in the middle of a life-or-death fight! If you had done that to me, you would not have gotten off with only a black eye and the silent treatment!"

"But she was going to…"

"I don't care what she was going to do! You do not behave with such stupidity in the midst of combat!"

Keldorn stopped, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. When he reopened them he seemed to be calmer, but it was obvious that there was still some anger in him.

"I do not teach fools to wield dangerous weapons. If this is how you act in battle, you cannot be trusted to hold a sword. Our lessons are suspended until Miss Granger tells me that you've apologized and learned your lesson."

With that, he stood up, gathered the wooden swords, and left Harry to ponder his actions.

OoOoO

OoOoO

The next morning Harry woke up extra early and staked out a seat in the Gryffindor common room near the portrait hole. He decided to wait for Hermione and was determined to make her hear him out, even if he ended up with another black eye in the process.

At few minutes past seven, Harry heard footsteps coming down the girl's staircase, so he stood up and took his position in front of the exit. Hermione would be forced to deal with him in one way or another. When she emerged into the room, she took two steps forward until she noticed that the exit was barred. She stopped, glared at Harry, and took a deep breath.

"Move," she commanded.

"We need to talk first," replied Harry.

"I don't want to talk to you. Now move."

With that, Hermione started marching toward him. Harry put his hands up in defense.

"Hermione, wait, I'm sorry."

The witch halted her forward motion once again. She didn't say anything but appeared to be listening. So Harry continued.

"You're right to be angry with me and I'm sorry."

"_Why_ are you sorry?" questioned the angry witch.

"Err… for casting that _Incarcerous_ on you." Once again Hermione remained silent, so Harry went on, "I shouldn't have done that. It was really dangerous to bind you like that in the middle of a fight. You could've gotten seriously hurt. So I'm sorry."

Hermione huffed.

"That's why you're sorry?" she asked.

"Umm… yeah."

Once again, Hermione resumed her march toward the exit.

"Get out of my way, Harry."

"What? Wait, Hermione! I said I'm sorry; what else do you want me to do?"

"I'm not angry at you for putting me in danger, you big git!" Hermione yelled at him. "So your apology isn't worth anything. I'm still angry with you and I will be until you apologize for what you did to me!"

Now Harry was confused.

"Err… well… if it's not that, then, well… why are you angry with me?"

"I'm not just going to tell you!"

"Why not? Come on, Hermione, just tell me what I did wrong. I'm really sorry. Just tell me what to do to make this better."

"No."

With that Hermione stepped forward and pushed Harry to the side so that she could duck through the portrait hole.

Harry despondently watched her leave.

_At least I got her to speak with me_, thought Harry. _And she didn't curse me or try to throw a punch. That's got to count for something._

OoOoO

OoOoO

Later that night, Harry was sitting in the common room staring into the fire. He spent the day trying to figure out why Hermione was really angry with him, but he just came up with nothing. Suddenly Hermione's voice broke the silence.

"Was it a lie?"

Harry turned to see her standing at the other end of the room, staring at him.

"Was what a lie?" Harry responded, standing up.

"When I first came here, earlier this summer, I told you I thought you were angry with me for failing you at the Department of Mysteries. I thought you were angry because you didn't trust me to be there when you needed me, couldn't rely on me to help you fight. You said that I was wrong. That I didn't fail you; that you still trusted me.

"Was it a lie?"

Her tone was deadly serious.

"Of course I didn't lie to you."

"_Then why wouldn't you let me fight beside you?!_" Hermione screamed across the room. "Why didn't you trust me to help you?!"

"It wasn't about that," started Harry only to be interrupted by Hermione.

"Yes it is! It's absolutely about that! You didn't trust me to help you fight the Death Eaters! What am I? Some airhead who doesn't know one end of her wand from the other?"

"_I didn't want you to get hurt again!_" Harry shouted back at her. "You almost died at the Department of Ministries, and I wasn't about to let that happen again!"

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

"I know you can, but that's not the point! I just couldn't let you rush out there into the fighting. I just couldn't let you get hurt again."

"I'm not some sort of damsel in distress that needs you to protect me all the time, you know. I'm a perfectly capable witch."

"I know you are, and I never meant to say that you weren't."

"I could have helped you. We could have fought them together. We could have watched out for each other."

"Yeah, but it all turned out alright."

"It doesn't matter if it turned out alright!" yelled Hermione, her anger working itself up into a blaze again. "What about next time? The Death Eaters aren't just going to stop. Are you just going to stun me again and shove me off into some corner like a piece of furniture?"

"That's not what I did!" responded Harry.

"Like bloody hell it isn't! How am I supposed to help you fight Voldemort if you won't let me?!"

"Well how am I supposed to keep you from getting _killed_ if _you_ won't let _me?_"

"It's not your job to protect me!"

"Yes it is! It was my fault that you almost got killed, so it's my job to make sure it doesn't happen again!"

"_Arrgh! Y_ou are _impossible!_" Hermione yelled before turning and stomping up the stairs.

"Yeah, well, so are you!" replied Harry.

Hermione's only response was the loud slamming of her door.

OoOoO

OoOoO

It wasn't until two days later that Harry decided to try and talk to Hermione again. The two days that had passed weren't like those previous to their shouting match; this time Harry borrowed Hermione's approach and pointedly ignored her too. He was so angry with her for not even trying to understand his point of view. But after the first day, he calmed down enough to want to try and patch things together again. The summer was quickly coming to a close, September the First was only three days away, and Harry didn't want the term to start with the way things were. They had spent such a great time together at the castle that summer; he didn't want the memory of that time to be ruined by a fight at the end.

So, Harry was in the common room late at night, watching Hermione on the Marauder's Map. She had spent most of her time in the library since the skirmish in the ally, and Harry was now waiting for her to call it quits and come back to Gryffindor Tower.

Finally her little dot began moving, and when she was got close to the portrait hole, Harry closed up the map and waited. A tired looking Hermione entered the room a few moments later.

"Hermione," he said to grab her attention as she came out of the portrait hole, "hang on a second."

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked with a sigh. "I don't really feel like having another row right now."

"Neither do I, so can we try just talking? How about we promise not to yell at each other?"

"Fine," she replied as she made her way over to one of the armchairs near the fire. Harry took a seat across from her on the couch.

"I've been thinking," Harry began after a moment, "we've had a really great summer, don't you think? I'd thought we were better friends than ever. We can't let the summer end like this. I don't want to let the best summer of my _entire life_ end like this."

Hermione looked down at her shoes but didn't speak.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. But try to see things my way for a bit. You told me before that I have a bit of a saving people thing, right? Well you were right, I do."

That brought Hermione's attention back up to Harry's face, but she let him continue.

"And, well, I guess you're just kinda high on the people Harry Potter needs to save list."

"Harry, I don't want to be on the people you need to save list. I'm not a princess locked in some tower. I want to help you; I want to be your friend, not your liability."

"I know, and I'll try to be better. But it's not going to be easy, Hermione. I can't just stand there and let you get hurt again."

"I'm not asking you to. But I won't be tied up and left at home while you go off to fight. I've got as much at stake in this as you do after all."

Harry momentarily thought about the prophecy, but then thought better of mentioning it to Hermione at that moment. He might have some prophecy hanging over his head saying that only he could defeat Voldemort, but Hermione was right, she was a Muggleborn and had everything to lose if the Death Eaters got their way.

"Okay," said Harry, "I'll try. It won't be easy, but I'll try to stop _protecting_ you so much. And I promise not to cast an _Incarcerous_ on you again before running off to fight."

"And I promise not to just throw myself into harm's way without a care. But really, Harry, why would I do that? I'm the smart one, remember?"

That brought a smile to Harry's lips.

"Friends?" he asked.

"_Of course_ we're friends, you goof!" Hermione responded, standing up and motioning for him to do the same. As soon as he was on his feet, Hermione wrapped him up in a crushing hug.

"We'll always be friends, Harry. Just because we had a little fight, or even a big fight, doesn't mean we're not friends anymore. You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

"That's good to know," replied Harry as he reveled in the hug. Making up with Hermione made him feel like a great weight was lifted off of his shoulders. Once they separated, Harry sank back down on the couch and Hermione sat down next to him.

"Do you think you could do me a favor?" Harry asked after a moment.

"What's that?"

"Could you tell Sir Firecam that I apologized and that I have your permission to start sword training with him again?"

"Why on earth would I need to do that?"

"Well… when he found out what I did to you during the battle, he got royally pissed at me and told me off. Said I couldn't train anymore until you told him it was okay."

"So that's why you apologized, huh?"

"Yep," Harry said with a smile. "It had nothing to do with being miserable from missing my best friend. I just wanted to be able to spend time with that cranky old man again."

"You really are a git, you know that?" Hermione said as she shoved his shoulder.

"Kidding! Just kidding! No need to get physical! I don't want another black eye."

Hermione blushed at that.

"Sorry about that, I shouldn't have hit you like that."

"Don't worry, I deserved it."

"Yes you did."

"Oi! You said you were sorry!"

"I'm sorry because punching your hard head really hurt my hand!"

"Oi!"

"And just think, you got beat up by a girl _again! _That's twice I've knocked you on your bum, Potter."

"Yeah, well, that makes it twice that I've heard you swear like a sailor."

The two broke into laughter for a little while before Hermione scooted over close to Harry and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Seriously, Harry, I'm sorry too. I don't like fighting with you. I've been miserable all week."

"Well that makes two of us."

"And don't worry, I'll tell Sir Firecam that you're in the clear tomorrow at breakfast."

"Thanks."

A little while later the two teenagers decided it was time to be off to bed. Hermione reached out for one more hug as they parted to go up their separate stairways.

"Goodnight, Harry," she whispered, leaving a small peck on his cheek.

Harry watched her ascend the stairs with a grin on his face.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

* * *

**AN: Well, there it is. I hope that didn't seem too rushed. What do you think? Let me know!**

**If you're concerned about the changes that I've made to Keldorn's character from his canonical origins, keep reading. If not, you can skip the rest of this paragraph. So, to clear up a point about Keldorn Firecam that was brought up by a reviewer: I am well aware that Keldorn is a paladin of Torm in Baldur's Gate II. I'm very familiar with both the BG series of games as well as Forgotten Realms. I have, however, decided to change that aspect of Keldorn's canon history in order to make him a work better in this story. After all, would a paladin's special abilities even function in a world where his deity had absolutely no presence? Would Harry Potter be interested in associating with or following someone who was devoted to a polytheistic god from a world that he will never see? So, in order to cut down on worrying about questions like this that really have no impact on the story whatsoever and would only serve to make it more convoluted, and to also make the story flow better, I changed Keldorn's devotion to the more monotheistic 'Light' that could be interpreted to exist across the different universes. Thus, I note in my disclaimers that I've taken some liberties with his character and I decided not to label this as a crossover. So, for the purposes of this story, just pretend that Torm, Bane, Tyr, Cyric, Mystra and all the rest never really existed or that they are demons passing themselves off as gods. All the clerics in Toril either worship the Light or the demons. Do you all think that I need to add this explanation to my profile? Would that be helpful to other readers?**

**To all of you who either put this on alert or added it as a favorite, thanks! It's nice to know that you're enjoying my woeful attempts at writing.**

**Extra special thanks to everyone who left a review. Ya'll are wonderful.**

**Please leave a review on your way out. I really want to know what you think. If you do, I'll bake you a cookie!**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	10. X

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

X

September the First dawned bright and early at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In an astounding feat of logic that probably only made sense to the staunchest traditionalists in the wizarding world, it was determined that Hermione and Harry would need to travel to King's Cross and then take the Hogwarts Express back to the castle along with the other students. Harry saw how that might make sense for Hermione, since she was a prefect and was supposed to patrol the train, but Harry had no such duties and was at a loss when it came to understanding why he had to spend his entire day traveling to a destination that he had already reached. But apparently tradition was tradition. At least Harry was able to convince McGonagall that they didn't need to take all of their belongings with them and could instead leave their trunks in their dormitories.

But before taking the Portkey that would drop them on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, the two students found themselves eating a late, final summer breakfast at the staff table in the Great Hall along with Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid and Keldorn. Harry was a mix of emotions; he was excited to see his friends once again, but he was also a little sad that the best summer of his life was coming to an end. Hermione, on the other hand, was positively brimming with excitement for the start of another academic year.

"Oh, I just can't wait to start out N.E.W.T. classes," she told the table at large, "just think of all the new topics to delve into and explore…"

"Only you, Hermione," Harry said with a smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry as if he was the silly one.

"And I can't wait to really get started on my special project," the young witch continued. "Speaking of which, Sir Firecam, I was wondering if it would be possible for me to take a closer look at your armor sometime."

"And just why would you need to do that, my dear?"

"Well, even among all the excitement in Diagon Ally, I noticed how your armor simply appeared when you needed it. It almost looked like it _grew_ out to cover you. I was thinking of trying to recreate something similar for my N.E.W.T. project."

"Yeah," interjected Harry turning to address the knight, "I noticed that too. How's that work?"

"Ah, well, I suppose that wouldn't hurt," answered the knight. "The most important part of my armor is actually rather ancient, and once belonged to Saint Jorg the Dragon Slayer."

Hermione's eyes sparkled with interest.

"And who was he?" she inquired.

"Saint Jorg was a soldier in an ancient, heathen army long ago. He saw the Light and converted his life and eventually became a great paladin. It is said that he slew a great black dragon single-handedly. His life was so fraught with constant danger that whenever he tried to remove his armor in order to rest, he would be attacked by an enemy who saw his lack of armor as their needed opening and advantage. So, the Light blessed St. Jorg and bestowed on him the gorget that still bears his name," Keldorn said as he tapped the wide metal collar that he always wore around his neck. "When the Gorget of St. Jorg is worn with any suit of armor and the command words are spoken, as much or as little of the armor desired by the one wearing it will retract into the gorget. Likewise, when a different command is uttered, some or all of the armor will unfold, ready for battle. That way he would never be caught at disadvantage again."

"That's amazing!" exclaimed Hermione. "If it's that easy, would you mind demonstrating it for me? Please?"

"I'd just do it if I were you, sir," Harry said to the knight, "I've learned that in situations like these, it's best not to stand between Hermione and the knowledge she's after."

Hermione glared at Harry and gave him a shove to the shoulder. However, once she had silenced her best friend, she turned her expectant look back upon Sir Firecam.

"Well, I don't see what it could hurt," said the knight. He then turned to the Headmaster, "With your permission."

"Like our dear Miss Granger, I find myself quite intrigued," replied Dumbledore, "please go right ahead."

Keldorn stood from his seat and moved away from the table.

"_To arms!_" he shouted and immediately his bright, shining armor expanded out from within his gorget to cover him head to toe. Even his mirrored shield appeared on his left arm. Harry noticed that while the armor covered the knight's clothing, it somehow managed to make its way underneath his belt so that it and the sword hanging from it would still be accessible. Harry also saw that Sir Firecam was now wearing a metal helmet, something that he had not seen before.

"Why weren't you wearing that helmet in the ally?" Harry asked.

The old knight his lifted the visor that covered his face before answering.

"I find the helm to be too restrictive. One can barely see or hear a thing with it on. I find that being able to see my enemies is more important than the protection that the helm might provide, so I normally forgo wearing it."

He then slowly turned in a circle so that everyone could see the entire suit of armor before barking another command.

"_Return to the Gorget!_" he said, which made the armor fold up and disappear into the metal collar. Once again, the knight appeared in his simple blue clothing with the gorget around his neck, a few left-over pieces of armor on his shoulders and his sword strapped around his waist.

"So what are those," Harry asked, pointing to the pieces of metal that remained on the knight's shoulders.

It was Hermione who answered.

"Those are spaulders, which is simply the name of the piece of armor that covers the shoulder. My guess from what he's told us would be that Sir Firecam merely likes to keep those out when he recalls the rest of the armor."

"Right you are, Miss Hermione," said the knight.

The young witch turned to see Harry staring at her incredulously.

"What?"

"How did you know that?" asked the surprised wizard.

"I do read you know," responded Hermione. "I figured that with a living, breathing knight walking around in our midst, I should at least know a little bit about medieval arms and armor."

"A little bit?" asked Harry somewhat skeptically, "like what?"

"Well, the styling of the armor was a bit foreign to traditional European armors, and thus would be hard to date. But Sir Firecam was clearly wearing a gorget, curiass, plackart, faulds, the aforementioned spaulders, rerebraces, cowters, vambraces, gauntlets…"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Harry interrupted her before she went through and named every piece of armor.

"Well you asked."

"Seems a bit bulky ter me," said Hagrid. "Doesn' all that get in yer way when yeh're fightin'?"

"You might think so," answered Keldorn, "but plate mail armor is not as restrictive as it appears. And this suit in particular is special. While the rest does not compare with the Gorget of St. Jorg, my armor is blessed and enchanted so that my movements never become restricted or otherwise burdened, either by the armor it self or by anything else for that matter."

"Blimey."

"So, you mean to say that you simply cannot be tied up while wearing your armor?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, the blessings upon my armor would not allow it," answered Keldorn.

"Would you be willing to demonstrate that as well?" Dumbledore asked as a follow up question.

"I don't see why not. _To arms!_" he said and once again Keldorn was covered in his armor.

Dumbledore rose from the table and pointed his wand at the knight.

"_Incarcerous!_" exclaimed the old wizard. Thick ropes shot out of the Headmaster's wand and quickly wrapped themselves around the knight. However, just as quickly, the ropes seemed to lose their hold and slid down his body to pool at his feet.

"Remarkable," said Dumbledore.

"Please, Sir Firecam," pleaded Hermione, "you have to let me inspect it at some point. Just think, if I could replicate the enchantment on your gorget alone!"

"You're in for it now," commented Harry.

"I'm sure we'll find time for that at some point, my dear," replied the knight.

"But not today," interrupted McGonagall. "You three must be leaving for King's Cross soon or you'll miss your Portkey."

"Sir Firecam's coming too?" asked Harry.

"Of course," answered the Deputy Headmistress, "it's tradition for new faculty to ride the train with the students."

"Right you are, Madam," Keldorn said before he once again dismissed his armor. "Come, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, we don't want to be late."

And with that they left the Great Hall to find their Portkey.

OoOoO

OoOoO

They arrived at the platform rather early. Harry and Hermione left Keldorn and went to find a compartment near the rear of the train. They were soon joined by Neville Longbottom who quietly greeted them and took a seat across from where Harry and Hermione were sitting side by side. They were interrupted a few minutes later by a light tap on their door. Harry stood up and opened the door to find Luna standing there wearing a strange pair of eyeglasses that had wide, colorful frames.

"Hello Harry Potter," greeted the odd girl.

"Err… Hi Luna," Harry managed to say despite being a bit taken aback by the witch's choice in eyewear.

"Would it be alright if I joined you for the ride? All of the other compartments are full of Nargles. And while I normally don't mind riding with the Nargles, I'd rather ride with you. I would imagine that you, Hermione and Neville will probably make for better conversation. Although the debate I had with the Nargles on the train ride at the end of last term about Japanese whaling boats was quite fascinating. Did you know that the Nargles have been in a blood feud with the whales for the past three hundred years?"

"No," replied Harry, somewhat befuddled.

"Oh, well, that's alright. I suppose I can sit somewhere else."

"What? Err… wait!" Harry said as Luna made to turn and leave. "I meant that I didn't know that about the Nargles. Of course you can sit with us, Luna." Harry waved his arm toward the seats for emphasis.

"Oh. Thank you, Harry," Luna said as she entered the compartment and sat next to Neville. "Hello Neville, hello Hermione."

"Hi Luna," Hermione responded while Neville simply waved in greeting.

"How is your '_project_' going, Hermione?"

Harry found that question to be odd in the way that Luna gave the word 'project' special emphasis and even used her fingers to make quotation marks in the air.

"It's _fine_, Luna." Hermione said through clenched teeth while glaring at the other girl. Something was definitely up with those two.

"Oh goody," replied the blonde, "I was worried about having to avoid lots of sexual tension. That always gives me a runny nose."

"_Luna!_" exclaimed Hermione while giving the younger girl a pointed look.

"What? It really does do awful things to my sinuses."

"Excuse us," said Hermione as she jumped to her feet and then dragged Luna out of the compartment with her.

"What was that about?" asked Harry.

"No idea," responded Neville with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Girls."

The two witches returned a few minutes later along with Ron and Ginny in tow.

"Wow," said Harry, "The Weasleys made it here with time to spare? It's only quarter to eleven!"

"Har har, Mr. Chosen One," responded Ron as he moved to sit on the other side of Hermione. Ginny sat next to Luna and Neville. "I'll have you know that without the twins messing things up, we Weasleys can be quite well organized. If only Ginny would take less then an hour in the bathroom, we could have been here ages ago."

"Shut it, Ron," replied his younger sister, "it's not my fault that you don't care what you look like when you leave the house. Some of us don't want to look like an utter slob all the time."

"Oi! I don't look like a slob. Do I, Hermione?"

Hermione seemed a bit surprised by the question.

"Well…" she began, "you could have put on a shirt that wasn't so wrinkled… and you might have shaved this morning… and you could have combed your hair…"

"Oi!" said Ron, getting defensive, "Harry's always got messed up hair! Why don't you pick on him?"

"See, Ron? You're a slob," said Ginny.

"Yes, well, Harry's hair is different," replied Hermione.

"Hey, don't bring me into this," Harry tried to interject.

"How is his hair being messy any different from mine?" asked Ron somewhat indignantly.

"Harry's messy hair is supposedly very cute," answered Luna. "It apparently makes you want to just run your fingers through it. Or so I'm told."

"_Luna!_" shouted Hermione.

"Oh, right. Sorry," replied the blonde sheepishly.

Ginny seemed to find Luna's comment and Hermione's reaction to be highly amusing as she was grinning ear to ear. Neville, on the other hand, seemed to be at a complete loss as to what was going on.

"Well fine then," said Ron with an affronted air, "I'll just have to find a girl who knows a real, red-blooded man when she sees one."

"Good luck with that. And let me know if you see any real, red-blooded men while you're out looking." said Ginny.

Ron just glared at his sister before turning to Harry.

"Can you believe these birds? Us wizards gotta stick together! Right, Harry? Neville?"

"Like I said," replied Harry, "don't drag me into this mess."

"Don't look at me," added Neville.

"Cowards, the lot of you," grumbled Ron. That comment was enough to make the compartment erupt into laughter.

OoOoO

OoOoO

The train arrived at Hogsmead Station without any incidents except for the argument that broke out between the two Weasleys when Ginny announced that she was going to go look for Dean Thomas. The argument was settled by Ginny threatening her brother with her wand and Ron surprisingly being smart enough to back down. After she left though, Ron kept grumbling about having a "chat" with "that git Thomas."

Ginny had yet to return from finding Dean, so the four Gryffindors and their Ravenclaw add-on took a carriage to the castle without her.

Hermione sat next to Harry at the Gryffindor table while Ron sat across from them. The tall, lanky redhead was really starting to get worked up about his missing sister when Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil pushed Neville out of the way and plopped down next to the youngest male Weasley.

"Hello, Ron, how was your summer?" began Lavender.

After shooting a questioning glance at Harry, Ron responded.

"Fine. How was yours, Lavender?"

"Oh, it was just wonderful!" replied the blonde witch. "My family and I went to the French Riviera and I spent quite a bit of time working on my tan. How do you think I look?" Lavender struck a bit of a pose for Ron.

"Err… you look fine, Lav," replied Ron.

"Thanks, Ron!" Lavender beamed, "Maybe next time we can take you along with us, I could've used your help to rub lotion on my back."

Harry was distracted from the interaction across the table by Hermione's elbow jabbing him in the side. He glanced over to her to see Hermione giving him a significant look, almost as if to say, _see, I told you so._

Harry's mind, however, soon found itself elsewhere. Thoughts of Lavender on the beach soon changed into thoughts of _Hermione_ on the beach, asking _him_ to rub lotion on her back.

_Whoa_, thought Harry, _where did that come from? Well, I know where that came from, but really? Hermione?_

His thoughts were interrupted however by Professor McGonagall who brought out the Sorting Hat and began to call the first years forward.

As the first years went to their new houses and everyone else applauded politely, Harry found his thoughts back on his best friend. He was of course aware of the fact that his best friend was a girl, but now he was looking at her in a new light. The little comments that McGonagall kept making about inappropriate behavior during the summer now came back to him and made Harry take a moment to consider his best friend.

_She's not as pretty as Cho_, he thought, _but she's not bad either. Besides, Cho was a disaster, and I should probably try to avoid girls like her anyways._ _Hermione's definitely grown up a bit; no longer the skinny little first year that used to yell at us to stay out of trouble. Her hair's still crazy, but she wouldn't really be the same without it, and she does have some nice 'assets.' _Harry surreptitiously glanced at Hermione's backside._ Does this mean I fancy Hermione?_

Harry's thoughts about Hermione continued on and off throughout the feast and were only interrupted once the food disappeared and the Headmaster stood to speak.

"Good evening one and all," began Dumbledore, "and welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Before we all go off to retire for the evening, I'd like to introduce some new faces to you. First is Professor Horace Slughorn," here the Headmaster gestured to a short, fat, bald man with a thick, walrus-like mustache. "Professor Slughorn has agreed to return to us to take up teaching Potions once again, as our dear Professor Snape will be your instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts this year." Snape's name was met with several groans from the student body.

"And this is Sir Keldorn Firecam," Dumbledore continued as he gestured to the old knight who stood in acknowledgement. "Sir Firecam is here to offer a new elective course this year, Riding and Magical Mounts. Please join me in welcoming our new instructors."

Everyone applauded and then listened to the normal announcements about forbidden items and the start of classes.

As the students began leaving, Harry was stopped by a tap on his shoulder. It was Keldorn.

"Mr. Potter," began the knight, "who is that Slytherin boy with blond hair?"

Harry turned to where Keldorn was facing and saw Draco Malfoy.

"You mean Malfoy? The one with the pointed face and is constantly flanked by the two gorillas?"

"Yes. I suppose that is him. Although I don't think the juvenile insults to the boy's companions are necessary."

Harry shrugged his shoulders at the knight's admonishment.

"Well, anyways, that's Draco Malfoy. Son of Death Eater Lucius Malfoy who, I am glad to hear, is now rotting in Azkaban for his role in the Department of Mysteries."

"The son of a Death Eater, you say?"

"Yep. Why all the questions about Malfoy?"

Keldorn looked intently at Harry for a moment before replying.

"There is a sense of malice about the boy. He has some intention in mind that is of the utmost evil."

Harry sobered immediately upon hearing that and looked back at Malfoy as he left the Great Hall.

"How could you tell?" the young wizard asked.

"All paladins can sense the evil intentions in those around them. It is one of the blessings bestowed upon us by the Light. The malice in Mr. Malfoy, while not the strongest I have felt by far, is still very significant."

"So what do we do?"

"You, my boy, need not do anything. I will handle this. I merely needed a name to match with the face."

Harry quickly stamped down on the surge of anger that tried to surface. After all, Keldorn was supposedly a consecrated warrior of the Light, sworn to fight evil; if Harry could trust anyone to take care of Malfoy it was him.

The two began walking toward the doors of the Great Hall when Keldorn brought up another topic.

"Have you given any thought to continuing your lessons in swordsmanship during the school year?"

Harry thought for a moment before responding.

"Well yes, I'd like to continue," answered Harry, "but I obviously won't have as much time for it, what with classes and Quidditch and all."

"Ah yes, Quidditch. I'm quite interested to finally see this game of yours that Minerva keeps going on about. I take it you're one of the players then?"

That got Harry thinking,

_Since when is Sir Firecam on a first name basis with the Deputy Headmistress?_ But he caught himself after a moment's consideration. _Well, perhaps some thoughts are best left unexplored_.

"Yeah, I'm actually the captain of the Gryffindor team this year. But back to the sword lessons, I've also thought of asking one of my friends to join. I thought it would be nice to have someone closer to my skill level to spar against."

Keldorn nodded. "We'll work something out for once or twice a week then. Let me know who you are thinking of asking to join before approaching them with the idea. I will observe them and then give you permission to approach them if I am satisfied. I do not teach just anyone how to handle a deadly weapon."

"This entire school is built around children learning to handle deadly weapons," Harry countered while holding up his wand as evidence.

"I suppose you are right in that."

Harry and Keldorn separated in the Entrance Hall and bid each other goodnight. As he made his way up to Gryffindor Tower, Harry's mind was full of questions. Who should he look for to join his sword lessons with Keldorn? What exactly was Malfoy up to this time? And perhaps most importantly to the teenager, why exactly was he thinking about Hermione Granger in such a less than platonic way?

* * *

**AN: Oh the joys of teenaged romance! I am ever so glad that I left that drama behind long ago. It's such a confusing maze to navigate, and poor Harry Potter and friends are stuck as eternal teenagers in the realms of fanfiction, doomed to hormonal outbursts and misunderstandings for all time.**

**My thanks to everyone who left a review. Do you think we can break the 100 review barrier with this update? Thank would be awesome.**

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think on your way out, even if it's just to say that you're enjoying the story or that you think it's terrible.**

**And thanks for reading!**


	11. XI

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

XI

The first day of classes was okay in Harry's book. That morning's Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson left Harry highly disappointed however. What should have been his favorite class due to his natural proclivity for the subject matter was once again spoiled by the professor. Snape simply informed them that they would be studying silent casting and then had them immediately begin attempting to cast various hexes and shields without uttering a sound. The greasy git didn't bother to give any direction or advice, and unsurprisingly, no one managed to successfully cast a silent spell.

Potions that afternoon was another story. Professor Slughorn spent the first ten minutes fawning over Harry, much to the latter's discomfort, before moving on with the lesson. The professor had the class brew a complicated potion with a vial of Felix Felicis set aside as a prize for the student who produced the best potion. To no one's real surprise, Hermione walked away with the tiny bottle of liquid luck and a light skip in her step.

Tuesday afternoon saw Harry and Hermione waiting near the stables for their first Riding and Magical Mounts class. As the students arrived in small groups, Harry noticed a slightly disturbing trend: most, if not all of the students taking the new riding course were girls.

Of the sixth years present, Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati made for a unified front for Gryffindor, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones represented Hufflepuff, Mandy Brucklehurst, Su Li and Padma Patil were there from Ravenclaw, while Millicent Bulstrode, Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass rounded out the Slytherins. There were no seventh years in the class since they had all chosen their N.E.W.T. courses the year previously and didn't have the opportunity to change, but to Harry's surprise, there were several fifth years present. Harry didn't know most of them, but he did recognize Ginny and Luna.

It appeared that the only wizards to sign up for the riding course were Harry, a very nervous looking Neville Longbottom, and Wayne Hopkins, a Hufflepuff that Harry couldn't recall ever speaking to.

"Why are the so many witches here and almost no wizards?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Well," replied the witch in question, "Today, it could be argued that horseback riding is a predominantly female pastime." Upon seeing Harry's face quickly drain of color Hermione hurried to continue, "But don't worry, there are still plenty of men who ride of course. I mean, the class is being taught by a man after all."

"It doesn't hurt that Professor Firecam is easy on the eyes too," chimed in Parvati Patil, "even with all those scars, he's one fine wizard."

"I think the scars make him even more attractive," mentioned Susan Bones as she wandered over to their group to join in the discussion about Hogwarts' new heartthrob professor. "Those scars let you know that he means business and that that sword of his isn't just for show."

"Maybe I can get my horse to take off at a run so he'll have to come and save me," offered Su Li, "I can play the damsel in distress if need be," she said with the back of her hand raised to her forehead in a fake swoon.

"I do not think that will be necessary," cut in the voice of the old knight. A few of the girls almost jumped out of their skins in surprise while nearly all of them blushed crimson at being overheard by the object of their conversation. Harry saw that even Hermione was blushing, but he thought that it was more likely that she was embarrassed at the thought of being numbered among her gossiping classmates than that she had a crush on the old knight. At least he hoped that was the case.

"Right then," began Keldorn, "by way of introduction, I am Sir Keldorn Firecam, paladin and Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. I am a paladin and a knight; I am not a professor, so there is no need for you to refer to me as such. You may call me 'Sir Firecam' or simply 'sir' if you wish."

Harry noted that Keldorn had the rapt attention of all of the witches present.

"You may have noticed that this class is a mixture of both fifth and sixth years," continued Keldorn. "As this is the first year in many generations that riding of any sort is being taught here at Hogwarts, I saw no point in offering different levels of instruction. You are all beginners, thus there is only need to separate you into manageable numbers."

So that explained the presence of the fifth years. It looked as if Riding and Magical Mounts wasn't really going to be a N.E.W.T. course, but more of a general elective.

Keldorn began pacing back and forth in front of the assembled students as he talked. The image of the old knight addressing a group of soldiers in the same manner came to Harry's mind and made him grin. Hermione shot him a disapproving scowl for his lack of attention.

"There will be no foolishness in this course," stated the knight with steel in his voice. "The horses and other creatures that you will be riding, while tame, are still dangerous animals. If spooked, they may very well injure you, perhaps quite severely. I have dealt with many dangerous foes in my time, a petulant or unruly teenage witch or wizard does not frighten me in the slightest. Do not test me here; you will regret it if you do."

Harry noted to his own amusement that that statement had many of the previously dreamy-eyed witches appearing much more serious. Harry himself was well aware of Keldorn's no-nonsense approach to teaching.

"Starting next class, you will leave your school robes behind in your dormitories. They are much too bulky to wear while riding and would only serve to get in your way. You will come dressed in the riding breeches and boots that were listed in your letters as necessary equipment for this course.

"We will start off with horses, and progress to riding other creatures as time and your skill levels permit. For now, I want all of you to pair up and we'll get started."

Harry thought of perhaps asking Neville to be his partner, as the boy looked absolutely terrified of being by himself among so many witches, but before he could even move, Harry's arm was latched onto by Hermione. Clearly the witch expected him to be her partner. Neville surprisingly ended up with Hannah Abbott while the Hufflepuff's almost inseparable best friend went to work with Wayne Hopkins.

They did not do any actual riding that day; instead, they spent their time learning a little bit about horses in general and then familiarizing themselves with their future mounts. The students entered the fenced off area behind the stables and went to the horses in pairs. They learned how to approach the animals and interact with them as well as the basics of brushing and tending to them.

Harry in particular learned that horses really did not smell very good at all.

Hermione looked like she was having the time of her life, or so it seemed to Harry. The young witch really did seem to enjoy not only learning about the horses, but interacting with them as well. She never got so excited about the creatures that they encountered in Hagrid's classes, but then again, it was difficult to enjoy spending time with monsters that were constantly trying to kill you. Harry supposed that part of Hermione's enthusiasm was that she was finally fulfilling her childhood desire to learn horseback riding. In any event, Harry was pleased to see her so happy outside of the library.

OoOoO

OoOoO

On Saturday evening Harry was summoned to the Headmaster's office. He approached the gargoyle, gave the password, and rode the stairs up to the cluttered room. Upon entering, Harry noticed that the shattered pieces of the magical items he broke in his anger at the end of the last term still remained in their place on a shelf in a side cabinet.

"Good evening, Harry," began Dumbledore.

"Good evening, sir," replied Harry.

"Harry, I've asked you here for a very simple, and yet a very serious reason," Dumbledore said getting right to business. "As you are now aware, because of the prophecy you are a very important person in the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I have asked you here tonight to give you a chance to become more involved in this fight. The choice, however, is up to you."

It didn't take Harry long to respond. The way he saw it, there really wasn't much of a choice.

"I'll fight," Harry responded to the Dumbledore's proposition.

The old wizard sighed and smiled sadly.

"I thought you would say that. I find it to be a shame, nonetheless, that one so young as you has had this burden thrust upon him. I wish that you could occupy yourself with your studies and perhaps with thoughts of some young lady or another. But alas, I guess it is not to be so."

With a swish of the Headmaster's wand, the Pensieve that Dumbledore kept in one of his cabinets floated over to the desk and landed amidst the scurrying silver instruments.

"Knowledge is power, Harry. In order to fight a war, you must first know your enemy. So tonight, I propose to start a series of lessons for you, just the two of us. We will not be discussing charms or hexes, however. We will be learning about Voldemort. I propose to help you know your enemy. What do you say to that?"

"I, err… I suppose that would be good," replied the young man.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore as he then reached into the locked cabinet behind his desk. He removed a crystal vial containing a smoky, white liquid. Dumbledore poured the contents of the vial into the Pensieve and then gestured for Harry to proceed into the memory.

That evening, Harry and Dumbledore watched the curious interactions of the Gaunt family, and after emerging from the memory, the Headmaster explained the origins of Tom Marvolo Riddle as well as the circumstances surrounding his birth. Harry thought all of this was interesting, but wasn't exactly sure how it would help him defeat a dark lord, and so he voiced his concern.

"Not that I don't appreciate this," Harry said, "but how is learning about Voldemort's family going to help me fight him?"

"I haven't the slightest idea, Harry," replied the Headmaster. "But then again, I do not know how you are to go about defeating Voldemort either. I have no hidden agenda in showing these things to you. I am merely trying to help you understand your enemy, and perhaps come to a better understanding of him myself. Exactly _how_ this knowledge might be of use is beyond my sight."

"Oh," Harry said somewhat dejectedly as the weight of reality sank upon his shoulders. He was prophesized to either kill or be killed by one of the most powerful dark lords that had ever lived. Voldemort was a wizard that had decades of skill and experience that Harry would never be able to match.

"Sir," Harry began, "do you think I can beat him?"

Dumbledore didn't answer right away. He merely took a moment to study the young wizard seated before him.

"I honestly don't know, Harry. I cannot tell you what the future holds. I _can_ promise you that we will be working together on this. I'm afraid that even with all my learning and power, I still don't have all the answers. Life is not that simple. If it was, I would like to think that I would have stopped Voldemort long ago. You might be the one prophesized to face the Dark Lord, but that does not mean that you need to take every step along the way on your own. I will help you as I can."

"Okay," replied the young wizard.

"And speaking of prophecies," the Headmaster said, changing the topic, "I was wondering if you might have told anyone about the prophecy that you are now aware of."

"No," answered Harry, "I didn't think it was something to go telling others about."

"That was a wise decision, Harry. Although I do not think absolute secrecy is necessary here. After all, I can only imagine that carrying the weight of such a thing by yourself would be a heavy burden. Might I suggest that you share the prophecy with those you can trust?"

Harry nodded once in response. He wasn't sure if he would tell anyone or not, but he would at least think about it.

"Also," continued Dumbledore, "I think that you should spend some time pondering the prophecy itself. Have you given any thought to what 'the power he knows not' might be?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, I've really no clue. What do you think it is?"

"I'm afraid, my boy, that I am in much the same boat as you are in that regard. If I knew or even had a guess as to what this power might be, I would tell you. As it is, I do not. If you ever come up with any ideas on the matter, I would be more than happy to discuss them with you."

"Alright."

"Well, Harry, it seems the hour has gone quite late. I will need some time to prepare our next so-called 'lesson,' so I will summon you in a few days or weeks when it is ready."

"What will it be about?" asked Harry.

"I haven't the slightest idea," replied Dumbledore. "That's the thing about this, Harry, I know just as little as you do. It will take quite a bit of research on my part to piece together the scant information that is available about Tom Riddle. I do have some memories available, but how to best present them and understand them is another question.

"Now, unless there is something else, I think I shall bid you goodnight."

Harry moved to leave at the Headmaster's dismissal.

"Goodnight, sir," the young man said as he left the office.

"Goodnight, Harry."

OoOoO

OoOoO

"This class is brilliant!" Harry said to no one in particular as he bounced along in the saddle.

It was a nice, clear, autumn day, and Harry found that he greatly enjoyed horseback riding. His initial trepidation about being one of only three boys in a class full of girls was quickly dashed on the second day when all of the students arrived in their riding gear. As a teenage male, Harry was quite thankful to whomever it was that designed female riding breeches to be so tight and form-fitting. The normal school robes left a lot to the imagination, but the breeches that the girls were now wearing were quite an eye-opener for Harry. And if he happened to linger a step or two behind Hermione on the walk to class, well, He didn't think that anyone really noticed.

Aside from the somewhat distracting clothing of his female classmates, Harry found the course itself to be interesting. The second class, which had taken place on the previous Friday afternoon during the first week of classes, was spent going over the various types of tack, harness and other riding equipment as well as talking over the basic methods of riding before the students simply spent some more time with the horses.

The second week of classes, however, saw the first session of actual riding. While most of the students seemed to have a bit of trouble understanding how to mount and stay balanced on their horses, Harry took to it like a natural. He was currently walking his horse around the enclosed yard anxiously awaiting permission from Keldorn to spur his horse into a trot or a canter. However, the old knight was busy working with the students who were having a bit more trouble with their first time on horseback.

Harry wanted to _ride_. He wasn't really content to just remain seated on the back of his horse while it slowly walked about the yard. He wanted to spur the beast into a gallop, to see just how fast it could run, to feel the wind whipping his hair back out of his face.

Perhaps all the time Harry spent darting about on a broomstick had made him a bit of a speed demon. The experience of riding a horse was somewhat like riding a broom, but it was also different. It was somehow more primal; it took Harry's mind back to the past, to the early days of mankind. It made him want to gallop across the grounds of the castle chasing after the ghosts of the past. He was, however, smart enough to realize that Sir Firecam would not take kindly to him doing so without permission.

Hermione also seemed to be a natural on horseback. Harry supposed that all of her childhood longing must have somehow prepared her for this moment. Hermione spent the first few minutes of the class whispering with Ginny, Lavender, Parvati and Luna before deftly perching herself in the saddle and taking control of her horse. The young witch was now guiding her horse around the yard with an ear-to-ear grin plastered on her face.

The biggest surprise, however, was Neville. The normally shy, bumbling boy was the first to quickly mount his horse and take off across the enclosure. He looked like he was born to be in the saddle.

Aside from the three Gryffindors, only Su Li and Daphne Greengrass seemed to be able to handle their mounts with natural ease, and both of them admitted to having taken riding lessons before. Daphne even owned her own horse and certainly didn't need to learn the basics of horseback riding. She'd taken the course because she reasoned that it would give her the opportunity to engage in her favorite pastime while at Hogwarts.

"Oh, Harry, isn't this wonderful?" Hermione exclaimed as she maneuvered her horse alongside his. "This is just so much fun!"

Harry laughed.

"I never thought I would hear you say that without a book in your hands," replied the young wizard.

Instead of reprimanding him, Hermione just threw back her head and laughed.

"I know! Just look at me!" she said with a grin, "bookworm Granger, enjoying the great outdoors with nary a thought of homework!"

Hermione's laughter was infectious and the two found themselves cracking up together as they walked their horses around the yard.

"You know, I should thank you," said Harry after a few minutes, "signing up for this course was a great idea."

Hermione turned to her best friend with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"You're just saying that because you get to be around all these witches in their tight riding breeches."

Her remark took Harry completely by surprise and he started coughing and sputtering in the saddle as his face turned bright red.

"Don't think for a moment that I didn't notice you lingering behind me all the way down to the stables," continued Hermione while leaning a bit closer to him. "I know what you were doing."

Harry was at a loss for what to say. He didn't know if he should apologize or deny the accusation completely. The teasing tone in Hermione's voice also added to his confusion. In the end, Harry elected to just remain silent and stare down at the back of his horse's neck as his face became hot enough to melt lead.

"Don't worry," whispered Hermione while leaning almost completely out of her saddle so that Harry could hear her, "I didn't say that I minded. Or that you had to stop."

With another laugh and toss of her head, Hermione urged her horse slightly faster and left Harry behind.

After the class was finished, it was _Hermione_ who seemed to keep herself a few paces in front of Harry on the walk back to Gryffindor Tower. Whenever Harry attempted to move up beside her, she would simply smirk and skip ahead a few steps. Harry wasn't completely sure, but he thought that she had also added a bit of a wiggle to her stride as well. He was sure, however, that his face would likely be bright red for the rest of the night.

OoOoO

OoOoO

The next day found Harry somewhat frustrated. He had decided to tell Hermione and Ron about the prophecy, but he was having trouble getting them alone to let them know. Hermione wasn't really the problem, as she seemed to be around him more often than ever, but surprisingly it was Ron who was providing to be difficult. Actually, that wasn't completely true; it wasn't Ron so much as it was Lavender Brown who was the problem.

At every meal Lavender (and Parvati of course) would plop down next to Harry's red-haired best mate and proceed to chat away about this or that inconsequential thing.

"Ron, I decided to use a new nail polish today, what do you think?"

"Ron, do you think my hair looks better pulled back or let down?"

"Ron, what do you think about the Cannon's chances this year?"

It was comments like the last one that really struck Harry as odd. Lavender had never really shown much interest in Quidditch before, but now she would take just about any opportunity to talk about the Chudley Cannons with Ron.

Ron seemed to bask in the attention he was receiving from the blonde Gryffindor. He eagerly engaged her in talking about any of the topics she broached, but was especially enthusiastic about the Cannons of course. It seemed like he had even finally learned to swallow his food before speaking whenever Lavender was at his side.

Hermione simply wore a smug little smile during most of these interactions while occasionally elbowing Harry in the side to bring his attention to some particular comment or action that either Ron or Lavender had made on the other side of the table.

Harry was simply baffled by it all.

That night in the common room, Harry decided that he was going to have to use the direct approach and interrupt the two if he was ever going to be able to speak to both of his best friends at the same time. So he approached the couch where Ron and Lavender were currently seated side by side.

"Oh, I don't know, Ronny," Lavender was saying, "it's never good to underestimate a witch in a fight. We can be quite determined, you know."

"Yeah, but I still think Jenkins would demolish her, hands down," said Ron.

"Err… excuse me," interrupted Harry.

"Hi Harry," said Lavender.

"What's up, mate?" asked Ron.

"Umm, I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Ron."

"Sure," replied the young wizard without making any attempt to rise from where he was on the couch.

"In private," added Harry with a glance at Lavender.

"Oh," said Ron. He then turned to Lavender, "Don't worry, Lav, I'll be back in a tick."

"Don't take too long, Ronny," responded Lavender, "I might get lonely."

Harry rolled his eyes as he made his way over to Hermione who was studying at one of the tables in the corner.

"Hermione?"

"Harry, you really should be working on your Transfiguration homework, you know," said the witch in acknowledgment of Harry's presence. "Why don't you sit down next to me and we'll do it together?"

"Err… right, maybe later," responded Harry. "Look, right now I really need to speak to you and Ron. Somewhere a bit more private."

That caught Hermione's attention and together they dragged Ron off to find an empty classroom.

Once the door was closed and locked, Harry turned to his two anxious friends.

"What's up, mate?" questioned Ron, looking a bit more focused now that he wasn't sitting next to Lavender.

"What's going on, Harry," added Hermione in a serious tone as she became aware of Harry's nervousness.

"Err... look," began Harry, "I don't really know how to tell you two this, so I guess I'll just say it. It's about the prophecy, you know, the one from the Department of Mysteries."

Hermione's eyes widened while Ron swallowed hard.

"It's about me and Voldemort."

"But I thought it was destroyed," interjected Hermione.

"Well yeah, it was," answered Harry, "but Dumbledore had another copy all along. He showed it to me the day I got out of the hospital wing."

"What does it say?" asked the young witch while beginning to get worked up.

"Basically, it says that I'm the only one…" Harry paused for a moment before looking back at his friends. Talking about the prophecy out loud, telling his two best friends about it, suddenly made it seem a whole lot more _real_, and Harry was surprised at how difficult talking about it became. "It says that I'm the only one that can beat him. That one of us is going to end up killing the other."

Hermione looked like she was about to burst into tears, but she instead launched herself at Harry, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him as hard as she could.

"Bloody hell, mate," said Ron.

Hermione didn't even bother to correct her other friend's language as she continued to hold onto Harry. Harry heard her sniffle once or twice before she pulled back just far enough to look him in the face.

"We'll help you, Harry," she said with a thick voice and watery eyes, "I'll help you. You're not in this alone."

Ron walked up and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Yeah, mate. You can count on us," said the tall, red-haired wizard.

Harry didn't bother to argue; he didn't bother to tell them that when the time came, he didn't really want their help. If Voldemort won, which he was likely to do, Harry didn't want either Hermione or Ron anywhere near by. He didn't say that there was no real point in their helping him as he was probably just going to end up dead. No, for the moment, he just accepted the support of his friends.

"Thanks, guys."

After another tight squeeze, Hermione pulled away from Harry and wiped at her eyes.

"Right," she said, "now tell me _exactly_ what the prophecy said."

"Err… something about marking me as his equal," Harry began while pointing to his scar, "and being born at the end of the seventh month. There was the bit about one of us was destined to kill the other, and something about me having a power that he knows not. I've no idea what it all means really."

"No, tell me the exact wording," responded Hermione, "the precise phrasing in true prophecies can be very important. A single word or two can vastly affect the meaning. What exactly did it say?"

"Oh, well, err… I'm not so sure about that. I was kind of, err… angry when Dumbledore told me, so I might have forgotten some of the details."

Hermione simply stared at him with a look of disbelief.

"But I'm sure we can get him to show it to us again," Harry hastily added in order to placate his best friend.

"Bloody hell, Harry," said Ron once again, "that's a raw deal, that is."

"Yeah, well, that's what I wanted to tell you. So you can head back to the common room now. Sorry to be such a downer, but I thought you two should know. Just don't go telling anyone else; it's kind of a secret that we don't want Voldemort to know about."

Ron gave Harry another pat on the shoulder.

"You can count on us mate," he said before unlocking the door and wandering out of the room.

Hermione, however, didn't leave, she instead used her wand to close and relock the door before pulling Harry into another hug.

"What am I going to do with you?" the young witch mumbled into his shoulder. "This isn't fair. Why does it always have to be you? Why can't we just be normal for once?"

After a few minutes of shared silence, Hermione suddenly pulled back from Harry, unlocked the door with a determined swish of her wand, grabbed Harry arm and pulled him out of the room.

"Right, Harry," she said as she marched through the corridors of the castle, "let's go see Professor Dumbledore. I want to know exactly what that prophecy says so I can figure out what to do about it."

"Right now?"

"Right now."

"But what about our Transfiguration homework?"

"Really! How can you think about homework at a time like this? I don't know how you've managed with this weighing on you all this time, but I'm not just going to go back to doing my schoolwork without at least trying to figure this out. Transfiguration will just have to wait."

"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?" Harry asked with a bit of mirth coming back into his voice. "Hermione would never consider putting off her assignments!"

"Oh, don't give me that," responded the witch but with a small smile, "I've put off assignments for things in the past. Mainly because _you've_ gotten yourself into trouble again!"

"Trouble? Me? Never!"

As they continued on toward the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office, Harry wasn't sure if it was such a great idea to be bothering him just before curfew. But he was happy to see Hermione so determined to help him figure things out and help him get through it. Even if the task before him was practically impossible and the likely outcome of the prophecy would be Harry's death, in that moment, Harry was content. After all, he had a determined Hermione Granger by his side.

* * *

**AN: And there's Chapter 11. I hope you all enjoyed it.**

**Sorry I was a bit late in responding to reviews this week; I'm in the midst of moving from one continent to another. I'll try not to let that interfere with the posting schedule, however.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I always enjoy seeing your comments.**

**Please leave a review on your way out and let me know what you think.**

**And thanks for reading!**


	12. XII

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

XII

After viewing the Pensieve memory of Trelawney making the prophecy, Hermione spent the next couple of days holed up in the library whenever she wasn't in class or asleep. If it wasn't for Madam Pince's refusal to allow her to remain in the library after hours, Harry was sure that Hermione would have cut into her sleep schedule as well. Harry took it upon himself to force Hermione to come to meals, even if those appearances were rather brief affairs.

He could not be angry with his best friend for ignoring him in favor of spending her time in the library, however, because she was putting all of her energy into researching anything that might have to do with prophecies and divinization. Harry wasn't sure just what the girl thought she would discover in all of the dusty tomes she was consulting, but he let her work nonetheless.

Wednesday evening saw the first of Harry's sword lessons with Keldorn during the school year. Keldorn dismissed the possibility of continuing to practice outside for the twofold reason that the odd demonstration would likely attract a crowd, which would only be distracting, as well as the fact that the weather would soon be turning colder which would require an indoor facility anyways. After a bit of thought, Harry proposed the Room of Requirement, which was where they were currently headed.

"You say this room can become whatever you desire it to be?" asked the old knight.

"Well, I suppose that it technically becomes whatever you need it to be," answered Harry.

"And it can provide materials as well?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very good, I look forward to seeing it."

They rounded the final corner close to the entrance to the Room of Requirement only to run into Draco Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going, Scar Head," Draco spat with venom.

"What are you doing all the way up here so far away from the dungeons, Malfoy?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"None of your business, Potter."

The two students glared at each other while Keldorn watched the interaction with interest.

After a moment, Draco seemed to realize that there was nothing to gain from his staring contest with Harry, so he made to leave.

"I think I've had enough of Gryffindor stench for one night," he said as he moved past the other occupants of the hall.

"I am watching you, Mr. Malfoy," Keldorn said, finally breaking his silence.

Draco stopped and turned back to address the knight.

"Watching me do what?" asked the blond-haired wizard.

"I know of your intentions," answered the knight, "and I advise you to give up now before you have gone too far into the Darkness. You will not like what you find there."

"You know nothing about me or what I'm doing," Draco said contemptuously, "you're just a sword-waving, barbarian _Muggle_ who's risen beyond his station."

"That will be twenty points from Slytherin and detention every night for the next week for disrespecting a member of the staff," answered the knight without being fazed by the arrogant student's insults.

Draco simply sneered in return before turning on his heel and marching off in the direction of the dungeons. After Draco left, Harry determined that Keldorn would not be forthcoming about anything he might know about the Slytherin, so he instead chose to continue on to the Room of Requirement.

When he reached the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and his dancing trolls, Harry instructed the knight to wait while he passed back and forth in front of the opposite wall three times, concentrating on his need for a room to practice swordsmanship. On the third pass, a door appeared which Harry opened to reveal a square room with a high ceiling and a wooden floor. There was even a wooden training dummy near the far wall.

"Remarkable," commented Keldorn as they stepped into the room and closed the door.

The old knight quickly removed the needed equipment from his belt pouches before setting Harry to twenty minutes of footwork followed by twenty minutes of accuracy drills against the dummy. All throughout, the knight acted normally without a hint of acknowledgement of their earlier interaction with Draco. Harry's thoughts about his Slytherin nemesis were quickly driven from his mind by the demanding tone of his instructor's orders.

The last fifty minutes of their time in the Room of Requirement was spent on parrying drills, both with and without the use of a shield. As they were getting ready to leave, Harry stopped the knight with a question.

"Sir, I was thinking about who I could ask to join the lessons," Harry said as he gestured with his sword. "What would you think of me asking my friend Ron Weasley?"

"Weasley… the tall, red-haired boy?" queried the knight.

"That would be him."

"Honestly, Mr. Potter, I do not think he would accept your suggestion."

"What? Why not? He's my best mate!"

"Your best mate he may well be, but that does not change the fact that I have observed him to be a bit, shall we say, lethargic when he is not working for something that _he_ sees to be important."

Harry couldn't really argue with the knight's assessment of his friend, but that didn't mean he'd have to like it.

"Besides, Mr. Weasley seems to be more concerned with his new female companion than with his studies or other pursuits," continued Keldorn.

Harry was about to object but the knight waved him off.

"You may ask him if you wish, but do not be surprised when he turns you down in favor of spending more time with his young lady. Such is the choice of most young men your age."

Harry nodded in response. At least he had permission to _ask_ Ron if he was interested.

"When your friend turns your offer down," said the knight, "might I make a suggestion as to who you should invite next?"

"Okay," Harry said while warily nodding his head.

"Young Neville Longbottom has impressed me in our riding course."

"_Neville?_" Harry asked with a bit of incredulity.

"You think there is something wrong with Mr. Longbottom?"

"No, I mean… don't get me wrong, Neville is a great guy, but, well… he's a bit… slow."

"Slow?"

"Yeah. He's always the last to catch on to learning a new spell or causing some disaster or another in Potions."

"That may be, but the boy has a good heart and I believe that he would benefit from some added discipline."

"What do you mean he has a good heart? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Mr. Potter," Keldorn began with an air of patience about him, "you know what I am. I am a paladin, a servant of the Light and a sworn enemy of the Darkness. I would not teach anyone to wield _any_ sort of weapon if I was not confident of their overall good intentions. I've told you before that I can sense the malice within people; I can feel their evil intentions as all paladins can. I would not teach young Mr. Malfoy how to wield a butter knife let alone a real blade.

"Mr. Longbottom, on the other hand, has no such malice within him. I think the sword work would do him some good, especially if he were to excel at it as he has with riding. He may not be the best wizard or the best spell caster in this school, but that does not discount his worth as a man.

"The Light will judge us on our virtue, Mr. Potter, on our attempts to stay true to the Light in the face of Darkness. Whether or not we fail in our endeavors has little to do with our worth as men. As Saint Tarese would likely tell us, we are called to be _faithful_, Mr. Potter, not merely successful."

Harry nodded along with the words that the old knight spoke. He didn't really expect this conversation to turn into a philosophical discussion, but it had nonetheless. Surprisingly, Harry found that what the old man had to say struck a cord deep within him in a way that he could not readily identify.

"So, Mr. Potter, you ask why I think Mr. Longbottom would be a good candidate for sword work? It is because I believe he is free of the poison of malice, but above all because I believe he will be faithful in the endeavor."

The student and instructor parted ways outside the Room of Requirement as the doorway disappeared and melded back into the wall. As Harry walked back to Gryffindor Tower so as not to be caught out after curfew, he couldn't help but go over his last conversation with Keldorn in his head. He was probably still going to ask Ron about the sword lessons first before turning to Neville, but that wasn't what was weighing on him. No, it was the fact that the old knight's words had touched something inside of him that bothered him as he walked back to his dormitory.

_We are called to be _faithful_, Mr. Potter, not merely successful._

Faithful. What did that mean? And what did it matter if you were faithful but failed in the end? Perhaps he was so taken with those words because of the almost complete hopelessness of his prophesized confrontation with Voldemort. The Dark Lord had decades of experience on him; Harry could never really hope to match him in raw magical power or skill. His likelihood of successfully defeating Voldemort was almost nil.

But perhaps if he was faithful to his task, perhaps if he fought against the evil of Voldemort and his Death Eaters with everything he had, perhaps if he gave everything to hold back the Darkness for just a little while longer, maybe, just maybe it wouldn't really matter if he succeeded or not.

Maybe the Light that Keldorn so often spoke about would find a way to keep shining in the Darkness even if Harry ultimately failed. After all, there would be others who would pick up the battle cry after he was gone. Voldemort couldn't last forever, even if he did manage to conquer the world, he would eventually be defeated.

Harry felt a new resolve, a new certainty as he made his way through the portrait hole and into the common room. He found that he could draw courage and purpose from the words that Keldorn imparted to him. The task placed before him no longer seemed quite so daunting, so impossible. He might not succeed, he might not win in his fight against the Dark Lord, but he would try, he would give it everything he had, he would be faithful and fight until the bitter end.

He would keep the Light shining in the Darkness, and the Darkness would not overcome it.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Harry approached Ron the next day after classes were finished to ask about him joining the sword lessons. Once again, Ron was in the common room sitting with Lavender.

"Hey Ron, Lavender," Harry said as he approached his two classmates.

"Hey, mate," replied Ron.

"Hi Harry," greeted Lavender, "you're not going to try and steal my Ronny away from me again are you?" She then playfully wrapped her arms around the red-haired wizard as if to keep Harry from dragging him away. Ron seemed to find the situation to his liking, judging by the grin on his face.

"Err… no, I'm not going to steal him," said Harry.

"Good," said Lavender, although she refrained from removing her arms from the boy.

"But I did have a question for you, Ron," continued Harry.

"Oh, okay," said Ron.

"Well, you know how I've been studying swordsmanship with Sir Firecam for the past few months?"

"Yeah," said Ron while narrowing his eyes in thought.

"You've been learning to sword fight?" Lavender asked in surprise. "What are you doing that for?"

Lavender's questions caught Harry somewhat off guard. He didn't really expect to be having this conversation with her, but it seemed that she now considered Ron's business to be hers as well. Harry didn't really feel like explaining to the blonde about his need to control his anger or find some discipline for his life. So he decided to give a safer answer.

"Well, it's kind of fun," said Harry.

"Fun?" asked the blonde witch.

"Yeah, it's fun," responded Harry.

"I would have thought that you already had enough on your plate, what with N.E.W.T. classes, being Quidditch Captain, and Hermione," said Lavender.

"Well, yeah, I'm busy but… wait, what do you mean about Hermione?" Harry said, turning the questions back on Lavender.

"Oh nothing…" she said somewhat mysteriously.

"Anyways," said Ron in an attempt to break the glare that Harry had focused on Lavender, "what did you want to ask me about the sword fighting?"

Harry turned his attention back to his best mate.

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to join in. I could use someone at my own skill level to spar against."

"Oh, err…" began Ron, only to be cutoff by Lavender.

"Well, that's a nice thought, but I think Ron's too busy already." She then turned to address Ron directly, "I mean, you've got classes, your prefect duties, tryouts for the Quidditch team and we just came up with our new study schedule."

"Study schedule?" Harry questioned.

"Err, yeah, mate. Lavender's gonna help me study this year. That's what we were doing when you got here."

Harry looked at the table in front of them as well as around the area where they were sitting but found a distinct lack of textbooks and notes.

"You're not studying," responded Harry.

"Of course we are," said Lavender while Ron tried to non-verbally communicate something to Harry with a series of looks and head bobs. Harry thought Ron looked like he was having some sort of seizure.

"Anyways," said Harry, "What do you think, _Ron?_" Harry hoped that the added emphasis would keep Lavender from interrupting again.

Ron looked over at the blonde witch for a long moment before turning back to Harry and responding.

"Err… sorry mate, but I just don't think I'll have time this year. You know, studying and Quidditch and all."

"Right," responded Harry, "well I'll let you two get back to 'studying.'"

OoOoO

OoOoO

Ron approached Harry later on that night in their dorm room.

"Look, err, Harry," Ron began, "about earlier…"

"Don't worry about it, Ron," said Harry, "I get it."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do. You've got something in the works with Lavender and you want to spend your free time with her."

"Well, yeah, I mean it doesn't mean that we're not still mates or anything, but, you know…"

"Like I said, I get it, Ron. I'm not angry. Sir Firecam didn't think you'd take me up on the offer anyways, so I kinda figured you're turn me down. But I thought I'd ask anyways."

"He thought I'd say no?" questioned Ron.

"Yeah, he said you'd want to spend your time with, quote, 'your young lady.' He's pretty observant for an old man."

Ron colored a bit at hearing that one of the staff members was keeping his eye on his budding relationship with Lavender.

"So, Lavender, eh?" queried Harry.

Ron's face split into a grin.

"Yeah, mate, she's great!"

"Really? Lavender 'use your inner eye' Brown? Trelawney's biggest fan?"

"Well yeah," responded Ron, "she can be a bit, err, flighty at times, but have you seen how she's filled out? She's one fit witch, she is."

"I'll give you that," said Harry. "So what the hell does she see in you then?"

"Oi! I'll have you know I'm quite the catch, I am," said Ron while he puffed out his chest.

"Sure you are."

"Yeah, well, not all of us can have witches lining up around the block to get a piece of us, oh great Mr. Chosen One," Ron shot back with a laugh. When he saw Harry's smile falter a bit, he tried to backtrack. "Err… sorry about that, mate, I kinda forgot about the, well, _you know_ for a minute there."

"Don't worry about it, Ron. I don't want you walking on eggshells around me anyhow."

After a moment of silence, Ron changed the subject.

"So what's up with you and Hermione?" asked the red-haired wizard.

"What do you mean? Lavender mentioned something about Hermione earlier too."

"Well you know," replied Ron.

"No, I don't know. What are you talking about?" asked Harry.

"Well, it's just that, the two of you, err, seem to be hanging out a lot recently."

"Ron, it's Hermione. We've always hung around each other."

"Yeah, but this is different."

"How so?"

"You know," said Ron with a waggle of his eyebrows which finally made Harry catch on to what his best mate was asking.

"Oh don't be ridiculous."

"Oi! See? You're even starting to sound like her!"

Harry was about to respond with a clever retort along the lines of, "I do not!" but then stopped to think.

_That did sound like something Hermione would say_, _maybe Ron has a point. After all, Hermione did look really good in those riding breeches…_

"So, err, would you be okay with it, if… you know… me and Hermione?" Harry asked a bit hesitantly.

That question made Ron grin like the cat that got the canary.

"Harry wuvs Hermione! Harry wuvs Hermione!" he started singing.

"Shut it, you git!" Harry said with his eyes shooting toward the door, making sure no one else was close enough to overhear.

"You wanna _snog_ her! Ha!" laughed Ron. "You wanna do each other's_ homework! Ha!_" That one made Ron fall back onto his bed in laughter.

"Oi!" shouted Harry, his face heating up, "like you and Lav are any better!"

"I never said we were," replied Ron once he recovered, "but at least I have the bollocks to admit it." Ron looked over at his glaring best mate, "but seriously, Harry. Go for it. If you want to snog our high-strung, bossy, schoolwork-obsessed best friend, I won't stand in your way. Just get ready to write a three foot essay on proper snogging technique if you do."

"You're such a great help," replied Harry, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Glad to be of service!"

OoOoO

OoOoO

In the end, Harry wound up asking Neville to join his swordsmanship lessons with Keldorn. The quiet Gryffindor was hesitant at first, but once he realized that Harry was serious, he graciously accepted the offer.

On Saturday morning, Harry held tryouts for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was surprised by the large crowd of students that showed up for a chance to win a spot on the roster. The fact that most of them were witches was a bit bewildering too. One student in particular left him dumbfounded.

"Hermione? _You're _trying out for the team?"

"Oh don't be ridiculous," responded the witch in question with a small grin. "I've no delusions of playing Quidditch. I'm here to show my support, oh captain my captain. Besides, I thought I could help."

"Oh?"

"Sure. I thought I could take notes for you or help you organize things," Hermione gestured to the Pitch with the notebook she was holding.

"That's a great idea! Thanks, Hermione!" said Harry. "I'll probably really need your help too. I mean, look at all the people here."

"Oh, I doubt they're all here to try out, Harry."

"They why would they come?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at that.

"Come on, Harry. I know you don't follow the papers, but really. With the way the _Daily Prophet_ has been going on about you being the 'Chosen One,' I'd be surprised if most of the witches in the castle _didn't_ show up to catch a glimpse of you. You've become quite fanciable, you know."

Harry seemed to pale at that explanation. Hermione just grinned.

"Don't worry, Harry," she said taking a step closer to him, "I'll keep all those mean old witches away."

_Is Hermione flirting with me?_

"Err…"

Harry was saved from having to reply by a rather loud seventh year.

"Let's get this show on the road, Potter!"

Harry and Hermione started things off by separating out the students that came to actually try out for the team from those just there to watch. The latter camp made up the vast majority, with even quite a few students from other houses. Harry was even surprised to see a sprinkling of Slytherin green amidst the group that was sent to the stands.

In the end, picking a team wasn't that hard. Harry kept Ginny and Katie Bell from the previous year's team as Chasers, and added Demelza Robins to the line, a third year who was particularly good at dodging Bludgers. Ritchie Coote and Jimmy Peakes were selected as the Beaters; Harry hoped that they would be a great improvement over the previous year's disastrous duo of Kirke and Sloper. At the very least, they couldn't be any worse.

Choosing a Keeper was the hardest decision of the afternoon. Ron put on a good show, but he was evenly matched by the loud-mouthed and arrogant seventh year Cormac McLaggen. It the end, Harry chose Ron, not necessarily because he was a better Keeper, but because he wasn't sure he would be able to put up with McLaggen on the team.

"Right, that's a wrap," Harry said as the tryouts finished. "I'll post the results on the bulletin board in the common room once I've finalized them."

As the crowd wandered away, Harry pulled Hermione aside for a private word.

"Thanks for coming out to help. You were great."

"You're welcome, Harry," replied Hermione.

"I know that you'd probably rather be in the library researching like you have been all week, so, yeah. It means a lot to me that you came."

Hermione blushed and looked down.

"Can I tell you something, Harry?"

"Of course."

"Promise not to laugh."

"Okay…" replied Harry with a bit of suspicion.

"I didn't really get any useful research done this week in the library."

Harry wasn't sure what he was expecting her to say, but that certainly wasn't it.

"Err… what?"

"I mean, I kind of ignored you all week to research in the library but I didn't really get anything done. So I'm sorry about that."

"Oh. Well, that's okay." Harry was puzzled.

"I think it was more of my way of coping with, you know, that _thing_ you told me about."

"Oh."

The prophecy.

"Yeah. I felt like as long as I was _doing_ something, that I could find an answer that would fix everything. Find a solution to the problem. Like it was an Arithmancy problem or something. But I realized that the answer wasn't just going to pop out of a book. This isn't that simple, is it?"

"No," said Harry in a quiet, serious tone, "it isn't."

"So I decided that I should have been spending my time with you instead of with all those dusty old books."

"Did Hermione Granger just insult the library?" Harry asked playfully.

"Don't you dare tell Ron that I said that!" responded Hermione.

"Don't worry; he'll be too busy with Lavender wrapped around him to notice even if I did tell him."

"I told you those two were going to get together."

"Correct as always, Miss Granger."

"And don't you forget it. You should listen to me more often."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good," Hermione said as she looped her arm through Harry's and started pulling guiding him back towards the castle. "Now let's go back to the common room and get started on our Charms essays."

"But those aren't due for two weeks!" Harry protested, dragging his feet.

"Well there's no time like the present!"

As he was dragged off to do his homework, Harry could just hear Ron mocking him in his head.

_You wanna snog her! You wanna do each other's homework!_

Surprisingly, the thought just brought a smile to Harry's face.

* * *

**AN: Thanks again for all the favorites, follows and reviews. You are all wonderful.**

**Let me know what you think of the chapter. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	13. XIII

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

XIII

The next few weeks passed by without incident. Quidditch practices generally went well except for when Ron became too self-conscious and would then go off his game, which made Harry a little worried about how his best mate would fare in front of the entire school during a real match. Hermione stayed on in her role as assistant to the team captain, taking notes during practice and generally helping Harry run things. He was quite sure that having her help kept him from overdoing things and demanding too much from his players like Oliver Wood used to do.

Neville joined the swordsmanship lessons and was doing rather well. Keldorn treated the newcomer much like he had initially treated Harry; making him do nothing but footwork before eventually letting him have a go at the target dummy. Neville didn't argue, but instead followed the old knight's orders as best he could. Harry was slightly disappointed that he hadn't yet had a chance to spar with Neville, but he supposed they would do so when Keldorn deemed them ready.

Professor Slughorn held an invitation-only party for several students near the beginning of October, a gathering which the students quickly began referring to as "the Slug Club." Apparently the portly professor liked spending his time rubbing elbows with influential people and helping to create connections between them. The students that were invited to the gathering either had prominent parents or other family members, or Slughorn expected them to grow into rather important members of society themselves. Harry, Hermione and Ginny all received an invitation to the first party. Ron didn't.

Initially Harry flat out rejected the idea of going to a party so that he could be fawned over by his Potions professor for Merlin only knew how long. But Hermione saw the party differently and really wanted to go.

"Just think, Harry," Hermione had argued, "we might meet some really interesting people there."

"No thanks," Harry responded.

"Oh, come on, you might enjoy yourself."

"Not interested."

"But I won't have nearly as much fun if you're not there," she said, switching tactics.

"I'm sure you've had fun without me around before."

"Maybe. But I'm certain I'll be all sad and lonely without you there next to me."

Harry hesitated a bit at the pleading look that Hermione was giving him.

"But…"

"Please?"

"Oh alright!"

"Thank you, Harry!" Hermione said with a smile as she leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the check.

And so it was that Harry had a smile on his face when he agreed to go to the Slug Club.

The gathering itself wasn't nearly as bad as Harry feared. Professor Slughorn only spent a few minutes fawning over Harry when he arrived before switching to fawning over Hermione and generally giving each of the students in attendance much the same treatment. Harry had to admit that the meal was very good; roasted pheasant and potatoes, along with rice and mushrooms served with elf wine. Harry had never really had wine before, but he found the drink provided by Professor Slughorn to be rather good.

As he sat down for dinner, Harry was surprised to see Keldorn taking his seat right next to him.

"Sir Firecam?"

"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," replied the knight in greeting.

"Good evening, Sir Firecam," responded a smiling Hermione.

"What are you doing here?" Harry continued his questioning, unable to fathom that the old knight would want to attend something like a Slug Club party.

"Well, I suppose I'm preparing to dine with those present. Is there something odd about my being here?"

"Well, I guess not," answered Harry, "but I just didn't take you for the type to go to dinner parties."

Keldorn smiled and let out a short chuckle.

"Believe it or not, Mr. Potter," the knight replied, "but my status as a paladin and even more so as a knight has seen me at quite a few 'dinner parties' as you call them. Although, back in Athkatla, we more often called them 'banquets.'"

"Really?" asked Hermione, "tell us about them."

"Well, very often some lord or nobleman or another would find a reason for hosting a banquet in his palace. He would of course invite his friends and family, but etiquette demands that he should also invite the rest of the nobility, as well as the leading members of society. I might not have told you before, but the Order of the Radiant Heart is quite prestigious, and as such my fellow knights and I regularly received invitations to the banquets held in Athkatla and the surrounding countryside. Professor Slughorn's gathering this evening is a lot like the banquets of my homeland, but on a much smaller scale of course."

"But why would you want to go to a party with a bunch of stuffy noblemen?" asked Harry, still at a loss to understand why a warrior would be spending his time rubbing elbows with simpering politicians.

"Why wouldn't I, Mr. Potter? Just as etiquette demands that certain people are invited to a banquet, so too does it demand the acceptance of such invitations unless there is a good reason not to. And besides, accepting someone's graciously offered hospitality is the right and good thing to do. Accepting a gift or an offered place at table gives honor to the giver. Rejecting an offer, on the other hand, can be seen as a dire insult, something that you should not do lightly or without due cause. Remember that, Mr. Potter."

This was something that Harry had never really thought about before. Why did life have to be so complicated? If he didn't want to go to a party, why couldn't he just say he wasn't going without everyone getting offended?

"It is important, however," continued the knight, "to treat all such invitations in the same manner. I would accept invitations from rich and poor, nobleman and peasant alike. As a paladin and a servant of the Light, I would not want to give the impression that the wealthy are worthy of my attention while the common folk are not. I can truly say that some of the more gracious and hospitable hosts I have met have been very poor, and yet they still invited me to their table in thanks for some service."

"But wouldn't your time as a paladin be better spent out in the world, fighting the Darkness?" asked Harry.

"There are more ways to fight the Darkness than swinging a sword," answered Keldorn. "A kind word or a small act of charity can sometimes do more to drive back the Darkness than an entire legion of soldiers. The true battleground is within," Keldorn said as he tapped his chest above his heart. "Helping the Light to shine within a man or woman's heart is a greater victory than any deed that can be accomplished with the force of arms. Sometimes the mere presence of a truly good person at a banquet or a dinner party can be enough to turn the tide."

Harry sat in pensive silence and thought about the old knight's words while Hermione went on to interrogate Sir Firecam about the different customs of his homeland. Harry supposed there was a lot about life that he just didn't know. He never realized how important things like going to the Slug Club could be. He looked around the table to see that everyone was having a good time for the most part. Ginny was laughing with a Ravenclaw witch that Harry didn't know; Cormac McLaggen had his head bent, whispering with a seventh year Hufflepuff, and Professor Slughorn himself had the rapt attention of the students seated nearest to him as he told some boisterous story.

When he thought about it, Harry had to admit that he was having an alright time. The food was good and he did get to meet Gwenog Jones before they were seated. Slughorn did gush over him being the Boy Who Lived, but it wasn't too much, and in general the Potions Professor found something to gush over everyone about. Besides, he was with Hermione who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself and Harry found her feelings to be infectious. Perhaps if he didn't start out looking at the party as something to be avoided he would have been having an even better time.

Sometime later, Slughorn skillfully grabbed everyone's attention and began a single conversation for the entire group by addressing Keldorn from across the table.

"Sir Firecam," began the portly Potions professor, "I was wondering if you might tell us all a bit about your homeland?"

"Tell us what it's like to be a knight," added Ginny.

"I'm afraid, Miss Weasley, that most of what makes up being a knight is not all that exciting, and the moments that are exciting would not make for very pleasant dinner conversation," replied Keldorn.

"Have you ever slain any dragons?" asked a Ravenclaw that Harry didn't know.

"Perhaps," Keldorn answered with a small smile.

"Come now," said Slughorn, "there must be something you can tell us."

"Well, I suppose I could tell you a story," responded the knight who now had every face at the table turned in his direction. "Several years ago, my squire Ajantis and I were in a small village a few days' journey west of Athkatla in the Umar Hills called Imnesvalle. We were there to seek out the cause of a few mysterious disappearances that had plagued the townspeople. The mayor of the sleepy little place thought that the blame could be laid at the feet of a band of Ogres that had taken up residence in the caves just north of the village. It was a natural assumption since Ogres are, for the most part, quite bloodthirsty creatures. So we set out to find them.

"It wasn't very difficult, as Ogres do not tend to be very subtle. Ajantis wanted to attack on sight and slay the beasts for their obvious crimes. I however, insisted that we speak with them first, for while Ogres are very dimwitted creatures, they are able to converse. It was a good thing we did so too. As it turns out, the Ogre clan had experienced the same type of mysterious disappearances that were plaguing the town.

"In the end, after the mystery was solved, that particular clan of Ogres turned out to be a peaceful bunch, and I was even able to help them establish a trade agreement with the town. To this day they are the only clan of Ogres in all of Amn that openly trades with humans. I believe that the moral of such a story would be to always try for a peaceful solution before resorting to violence."

"So what was making people disappear then?" asked Cormac McLaggen.

Keldorn hesitated for a moment before answering.

"The culprit turned out to be a Shade Lord, a type of undead spirit that was preying upon the living in an attempt to gain power. Ajantis and I sent it back whence it came."

Harry shivered at the memory of another undead spirit inhabiting the body of his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor during his first year.

"Where is your squire Ajantis now?" asked Hermione.

Keldorn smiled sadly.

"He now rests in the Light, having died some years ago. He was a good man, and became a fine paladin. He fought valiantly, but ultimately fell in battle. But I do not think that is a tale to tell here."

Talk of death effectively put a damper on the conversation for a moment until Slughorn was able to skillfully change the subject. All in all, once Harry moved past his initial negative reaction to being part of the Slug Club, Harry found that he had an enjoyable evening.

OoOoO

OoOoO

The days slipped by as Harry fell into a routine of classes, Quidditch practice, swordsmanship lessons with Keldorn and Neville, and spending the little free time had had left over with his friends. However, that time was increasingly spent with just Hermione as Ron seemed to always be hanging around with Lavender.

The last weekend in October saw Gryffindor playing against Slytherin in a rather brutal Quidditch match. The Lions were flying well for the most part, the sole exception being one Ronald Weasley. Ron had started off alright, but once the Slytherins launched into their chorus of "Weasley Is Our King" his confidence and subsequently his concentration began to fall. Soon nearly every shot taken by the Slytherin Chasers was making it through the goals. It was only Harry's desperate dive for the Snitch that managed to save the game for Gryffindor, and just barely at that, the final score being 320 points for Gryffindor over Slytherin's 300.

As the Gryffindor team made their way back to the tower, Harry lagged behind alongside a dejected Ron. The red haired wizard hadn't said a word since the end of the match and Harry was worried for his best mate. They had just entered the common room when Ron finally turned to Harry.

"Harry, mate," began Ron, "I think I…"

However, whatever he was going to say was cut off by the shout of an enthusiastic Lavender Brown.

"Ronny!" the blonde witch screamed as she threw herself at the young wizard, her arms clasping around his neck. Ron in turn had to wrap her around the waist to keep her from falling to the ground.

"You did wonderfully!" said Lavender.

"Are you daft?" asked Ron. "Did you actually see the game? I was pathetic!"

"Nonsense," replied Lavender. "You just need some more confidence. And I know just the thing to give it to you."

"What's that?" asked a confused Ron.

"This."

Lavender then proceeded to fuse her lips to Ron's. The hoots and cheers from the rest of the house seemed to have no impact upon the two sixth years that were apparently trying to see how far down each other's throats they could reach.

Harry turned away from the sight to look around the common room. His eyes fell upon Hermione only to catch her staring at him. Her face became bright red as she quickly looked away from him. Harry made his way over to her, pushing his way through his housemates who were loudly encouraging Ron and Lavender.

"Hey," Harry said when he finally made it to Hermione's side.

"Hi," Hermione somewhat shyly greeted him in return, her face still bright red. Harry was confused by Hermione's suddenly timid manner; that wasn't really like the girl he knew so well.

"Er… so, Ron and Lavender, huh?" said Harry in an attempt to break the awkwardness.

Hermione looked over at the energetically snogging couple before glancing back at Harry; her face became even redder if that was possible. She cleared her throat before speaking.

"I told you those two were going to get together," Hermione replied. "You should listen to me more often."

"I always listen to you," said Harry.

"Pfft," Hermione huffed with a roll of her eyes, "sure you do."

Ginny chose that moment to come bounding over to them with a grin plastered on her face.

"Oh Hermione! Isn't this great?" the short redhead asked. She looked at Harry somewhat playfully for a moment before turning back to Hermione, "so far, Operation Quidditch is proceeding according to plan."

"_Ginny!_" growled Hermione through clenched teeth.

Ginny, however, was unfazed.

"Something the matter, Hermione?" replied the younger witch.

"What plan is this?" Harry asked in confusion.

Hermione once again reddened and inspected her shoes while Ginny smiled mysteriously.

"Oh nothing. We girls have merely been in collusion about getting certain wizards to open their eyes."

"_Ginevra_…" Hermione once again growled, albeit this time with much more danger laced in her voice.

"What?" Ginny asked innocently. "I was just going to tell _dear Harry_ here that we, the lovely and beautiful witches of Gryffindor, have been plotting to get Ron and Lavender together, which seems to have worked rather spectacularly. Wouldn't you agree, Harry?"

"Err, yeah, I guess so," replied Harry. "They certainly seem to be out to prove that they're quite the couple."

"No, not about Ron and Lav," said Ginny who then threw her arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Don't you agree that _Hermione_ and I are lovely and beautiful witches?"

Harry sputtered and choked before answering.

"Err… I mean, yeah, err, yes," Harry said as his face started to heat up.

"Yes what?" asked Ginny with predatory smile on her face.

Harry shook his head and gathered his bearings before saying what he knew Ginny wanted to hear.

"Yes, Hermione and you are very lovely and beautiful witches."

"Hear that, Hermione?" Ginny asked as she turned her devious grin to the witch next to her. "I might have to snag this one up before someone else takes him. Oh wait, I already have a boyfriend."

Hermione didn't respond, but instead took on a crimson complexion once again.

"Seeing Ron and Lavender go at it like that makes me wonder where Dean is," continued Ginny. "I could use a good snog myself. How about you, Hermione?"

Hermione simply pushed the redhead away from her before lifting her nose into the air.

"I think I've had just enough of this," she announced. "Harry, I'll see you later." With that, Hermione turned and made her way up to the girls' dormitory.

"Alright, Gin, what was that all about?" asked Harry.

"Oh noting," she responded. "Sorry, Harry, I've got to go find Dean. Bye!"

_Girls_. Harry thought as he shook his head. He had no idea what Ginny was up to, but it probably wasn't going to end up in his favor. As the redhead went off to find her boyfriend, and as the cheering in the common room became louder as Ron and Lavender continued their show, Harry's eyes wandered over to the empty girls' staircase.

_Girls_.

OoOoO

OoOoO

The first Saturday in November was set for a visit to Hogsmeade, which found Harry and Hermione in the Entrance Hall waiting for the remaining member of their trio before setting off for the village. After waiting for a few minutes, they finally spied the tall wizard running over to them with his now constant goofy grin on his face.

"Hey Harry, Hermione," Ron said by way of greeting.

"Ron," said Hermione.

"Right then," said Harry. "Let's go."

"Err… about that," replied Ron, "sorry, but I can't go with you two today."

"What?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

"Sorry, but Lav and I've decided that this would be our first date," answered Ron.

"You mean Lavender decided," responded Harry.

"Well…"

"Fine," interrupted Hermione with a roll of her eyes. "Go on. Shoo. Lav Lav's lips might be getting cold without you."

"Oi! There's no call for that now," said Ron. "Besides, maybe you should find yourself a bloke for a snog or two. Do you some good, it would."

"Oh would it?!" Hermione asked with a glare as she drew her wand. "Do you have any other advice for me, _Ronny?_"

"Err… nope," said the young wizard as he backed away before turning to Harry. "Have fun today!"

Ron then turned tail and ran before Hermione decided that she wanted to put her wand to good use.

"You going to use that on me?" Harry asked while gesturing to the wand that was still clenched in Hermione's hand.

"Oh don't be ridiculous," she responded as she put her wand away and turned to face Harry. "I guess it's just the two of us then."

"Looks like."

They rode in comfortable silence and arrived to see the small wizarding village overrun with students.

"Well, I guess you'll want to go to Scrivenshaft's," said Harry.

"Actually," began Hermione with a bit of color coming to her face, "I was thinking of going to Gladrags."

"Oh. Right then, let's go."

The two arrived at the clothing store and entered. Harry was a bit confused because Hermione had never really wanted to go clothes shopping before, at least as far as he could remember. She normally only wanted to check out the stationary shop and the bookstore.

"So, err, what were you looking for in here?" asked Harry.

"Well," Hermione answered without looking at her companion, "Ginny told me that since the riding class started, Gladrags has started carrying some different outfits to wear for horseback riding. I thought I'd check them out."

"Oh."

They separated and Harry wandered about the store for a little while. A few minutes later Harry was looking at a pair of boots when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and his eyes widened when he saw Hermione dressed in a short, white jacket along with a pair of tight, red, riding breeches. She turned to the side to let him get a good look at her profile before she looked at him over her shoulder.

"Well, what do you think?"

Harry coughed and it took him a moment to calm down to the point where he could speak.

"Err… what?"

Hermione smirked at him.

"I said, what do you think? Do you like the red breeches?" she asked as she slowly spun in a circle. "I wanted something that was, you know, 'Gryffindor.'"

Harry was finding it hard to concentrate, especially with the way that the tight breeches accentuated Hermione's behind.

"Err… I think you look great. I mean, they look great."

Hermione continued to smirk at him.

"Thank you. Now wait here," she said as she slowly walked away from him with what Harry thought was a bit of extra wiggle in her step. "I want to know what you think of the yellow breeches too."

Harry's mouth went dry at that. In the end, after she modeled both the yellow and the red pair of breeches for him once again, Harry told Hermione that she should take both. He also insisted on paying for them, a gesture to which Hermione only put up a token resistance.

They left the clothing shop and Hermione threaded her arm through Harry's as they made their way down the street.

"What do you say we get something to drink?" Hermione asked.

"Sounds good."

Thus they made their way into the Three Broomsticks, which was as crowded as ever. They found an empty table for two and ordered two butterbeers when Madam Rosemerta came over.

"Thank you for shopping with me today, Harry," Hermione said once they had sipped their drinks.

"My pleasure," Harry responded.

Hermione smirked at him once again.

"I bet it was," she said softly.

Harry didn't know how to respond to that, so he just stayed silent. After a moment, He spoke up to change the topic.

"I wonder what Ron and Lavender are up to. You think they ever made it down to Hogsmeade or are they taking advantage of the empty common room?"

"For the sake of the first and second years, I would hope not," responded Hermione.

Harry grinned.

"Yeah, no need to scandalize the munchkins."

Hermione grinned back at him.

"Don't worry; I'm sure Lavender has him well in hand."

Harry laughed out loud at that.

"I can't believe you said that!" replied Harry.

Hermione blushed.

"I didn't mean it that way…"

"But still…"

"Let's not talk about Ron and Lavender," Hermione said.

"Why not?"

"Because. What's wrong with that? Don't you like spending time just with me without worrying about Ron?" Hermione asked while pouting at him.

Since when did Hermione start pouting?

"Of course I like spending time with you."

"Good."

They lapsed into silence once again. A moment later, Harry felt something nudging against his foot. When he saw the coy smile on Hermione's face, he realized that it was her. So he nudged her back, and with full blown smiles they both started a little game under the table. It was fun.

Sometime later, just after Harry had ordered a second round of butterbeers, he noticed Keldorn sitting at the bar, laughing alongside Hagrid. He nodded in their direction.

"Look. Hagrid's over at the bar with Sir Firecam."

Hermione glanced over before turning back to Harry.

"Those two do seem to spend a lot of time together," she replied.

"Yeah, looks like the old knight's found a friend."

Hermione smiled, "I'm happy for him. It must be difficult being so far from home."

"Yeah," said Harry, "just think about it. Being pulled into a different world, where no one knows you or anything about you. I'd never even heard of a paladin before he showed up."

A look of surprised realization appeared on Hermione's face as Harry was speaking.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Harry!" began Hermione in the hurried, excited voice that she often used when she had finally figured something out. "Oh my! No one knows anything about Sir Firecam! Could that be it? Come on, we've got to go see Professor Dumbledore!" she exclaimed as she jumped to her feet and pulled Harry out of his chair.

"Right now?" Harry asked in confusion. "Why does no one knowing Sir Firecam mean that we have to run off to Dumbledore? I was kinda having fun here…"

"Oh I know. I was having fun too, Harry. Don't worry, we'll do this again. But this is important."

"Alright," Harry acquiesced as he threw some coins onto the table. Hermione then latched onto his arm and pulled him across the room, out the door and up the road toward the castle.

"This had better be worth it," grumbled Harry as they trekked back to the castle.

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione replied, "it is. I promise you'll understand when we see the Headmaster."

"Oh alright."

Harry was a bit disappointed that his day in Hogsmeade with Hermione was being cut short, but he supposed it could be worse. He did get to watch her try on those tight breeches after all.

* * *

**AN: No real comments to make this time. Thank you all for the comments. Please leave a review on your way out. And thanks for reading!**


	14. XIV

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

XIV

Shortly thereafter, Harry and Hermione arrived at the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office. The statue, however, refused to budge.

"I don't suppose you know the password?" asked Hermione.

"No," answered Harry. "We could always guess though."

"I don't think guessing is going to work. Dumbledore's too smart to pick an easy password," replied Hermione.

"Lemon Drop," said Harry.

"Besides, he might not be in there."

"Ice Mice."

"Maybe Professor McGonagall knows where he is…"

"Blood Pop."

"Oh… why is there a password to the Headmaster's office anyways?"

"Cockroach Cluster."

"Shouldn't he be available to students at all times?"

"Acid Pop."

"I mean, what if there was an emergency?"

"Chocolate Frog."

"How are we supposed to let the Headmaster know if something is terribly wrong if there's a stone statue barring the way to his office all the time?"

"Licorice Wand."

"Oh, this is just infuriating!"

"Sugar Quill."

The sound of stone grinding on stone filled the air as the gargoyle stepped aside.

"How did you do that?" queried Hermione.

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"It was 'Sugar Quill,'" he said.

"You mean to tell me that the greatest wizard alive uses _sweets_ as the password to his private office?"

Harry just nodded.

"As far as I can remember, the password's always been some sort of sweet. I figured I would guess it eventually," answered Harry.

Hermione shook her head incredulously.

"Unbelievable."

"After you, my lady," Harry said with a sweeping bow.

"Oh, you're such a gentleman," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes as she stepped onto the magical staircase.

"Hey! Why're you mad at me? You're the one who cut short our day in Hogsmeade to run back to the Headmaster!"

Hermione sighed, "You're right. I'm sorry, Harry. I'm not mad at you; I just can't believe that the password was so easy to guess."

"Well, you did just say how the students should have access to the Headmaster's office. Maybe this is his compromise; easy to guess passwords."

They arrived at the top of the stairs and Harry knocked on the heavy oak door."

"Come in," said Dumbledore.

Harry held the door open for Hermione before following her and closing it behind him.

"Good afternoon Harry, Miss Granger. What can I do for you?"

Harry just pointed to his best friend who was standing beside him.

"You'll have to ask her. I've no clue why we're here."

"Well, then, have a seat," said the old wizard who then conjured a second armchair in front of his desk. The two students took their seats before Hermione launched into her explanation.

"I think I know what the 'power he knows not' is," said the witch.

Harry's mouth fell open in surprise.

"You figured that out while we were playing footsie in the Three Broomsticks?" Harry asked.

Hermione blushed at Harry's mention of their activity in front of the Headmaster.

"Never mind what we were doing," she responded, "the point is I think I might have figured it out."

"Do tell, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye.

"It's Sir Firecam."

"I think you'll have to explain a bit more, Hermione," Harry said.

"Just think," continued Hermione, "he's a _paladin_, a type of holy warrior that our world as a whole has no experience with. He has magic-like abilities that have never been seen before by anyone. For example, the way he healed me was almost miraculous. Who knows what else he's really capable of? Certainly not _Voldemort_. Thus, the new abilities that Sir Firecam has brought to our universe are 'the power he knows not.'"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair in silent thought with his fingers steepled in front of his face. Harry, however, was quick to bring up an objection to Hermione's theory.

"That's all fine, Hermione," the young wizard began, "but _I'm_ the one mentioned in the prophecy, not Sir Firecam. _I'm _supposed to be the one with 'the power he knows not,' not Sir Firecam."

Hermione wasn't deterred in the least by Harry's objection. Instead, she smiled as she looked over at him.

"And that's why we get him to teach you how to be a paladin," she replied.

"Don't be daft," said Harry, "do I look like a knight in shining armor to you?"

Hermione actually blushed a little bit before answering.

"That's beside the point," she replied. "Remember, Sir Firecam has mentioned on several occasions that being a _knight_ is different than being a _paladin_. He's a knight because of the order that he's in, but he was a paladin long before he joined his order."

"We don't even know if I'm capable of doing the things he does," Harry said as his temper started to rise a bit. "Do the things he does even work through magic like ours? You might as well try teaching a fish to breathe on land!"

"But it _could_ just be a different way of accessing the same magical foundations that underlie the multiverse. There has to be a common set of laws that governs everything. And if that's the case, it's likely that he would be able to teach you in whatever way he would teach any other new paladin on his home world."

Harry was not convinced; in fact he didn't like the idea at all, but he couldn't come up with any other arguments against Hermione's idea. She was the brightest witch of their generation after all; Harry had no delusions that he could actually argue with her and win about a real, important topic. So he instead turned his attention to Dumbledore to see what he thought.

The Headmaster had clearly been following the discussion between his two students but had made no interruptions. He only spoke up when Harry and Hermione both finally turned to him.

"I think," began Dumbledore, "that Miss Granger's idea might have some merit."

Hermione broke into a triumphant grin.

"I said _might_, Miss Granger, and I meant it. We do not know if Harry here or any other witch or wizard from our world for that matter would be able to learn to wield the type of magic employed by Sir Firecam. It may be possible, but then again it may not."

Hermione's grin faded a bit at that but didn't disappear entirely.

"I certainly see no difficulty in _asking_ him if he thought you could learn his type of magic, Harry," continued Dumbledore, "or if he would even consider taking you on as a student."

"Great," grumbled Harry, "I get to sign up for even more classes."

Dumbledore merely smiled enigmatically, his ever present twinkle sparkling in his eye.

"If our dear Miss Granger is in fact correct, Harry, I do not think that this will be something to grumble over. Rather, it could be the key to saving our world. Besides, we can worry about your class schedule when the time comes. You certainly wouldn't be the first student in Hogwarts' history to have an odd course of studies."

"But how is learning how to miraculously heal someone going to help me fight Voldemort?" protested Harry.

"Harry," responded Hermione, "there's more to what Sir Firecam can do than just healing people. He's a _warrior_ after all. He's sworn to fight against the most evil and vile beings in the world. And from the few stories he's told, it sounds like his world has even more dangerous magic than our own. He's got to know a thing or two that would be helpful in our fight."

"Besides," said Dumbledore, "this theory seems to fit in well with some of Voldemort's recent activities. You already know of Professor Snape's role as a spy for the Order. Well, he has discovered that this past summer's attack on you in Diagon Ally was not really aimed at you, Harry, but was rather meant to test Sir Firecam. It appears that Voldemort was quite disturbed by our friend's appearance and abilities during the battle at the Department of Mysteries. I believe that Voldemort is hesitant about this new opponent about whom he knows almost nothing.

"In any event," said Dumbledore, "I do think that the idea is worth investigating. It is certainly a better candidate for 'the power he knows not' than anything I've been able to come up with."

"Great," grumbled Harry once again. Hermione narrowed her eyes and glared at him but didn't say anything.

"Harry," continued Dumbledore, "I think you should approach Sir Firecam about this idea, and I think you should do so soon. We don't know how long Voldemort and his Death Eaters will remain inactive after all."

"Right," said Harry as he rose to his feet, "well if that's all, I suppose we should be on our way then."

Once the two students had said their goodbyes to the Headmaster and were back in the corridors of the castle, Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and spun him around to face her.

"What exactly was your problem up there?" the irate witch asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," responded Harry.

"I' _talking about_ the fact that I had an idea that just might help us fight Voldemort and all of a sudden you're completely opposed to it. What's so terrible about it?"

"I just don't think it will work."

"Why not? Professor Dumbledore thinks it has merit. I thought you liked Sir Firecam and that you'd jump at the chance at learning more from him. You certainly seem to like learning swordsmanship and riding from him."

"Yeah, well, whatever."

"Don't you 'whatever' me, Harry James Potter!" Hermione shrieked.

"You're not my mother," Harry responded petulantly.

"What has gotten into you?!"

Harry looked down to his feet and fumed in silence for a few moments.

Hermione took a step closer to him and reached out to lay her hand on his arm.

"Harry?" she asked in a much softer tone of voice, "what is it? What's wrong? Tell me what's really bothering you."

Harry glanced up at her for a moment before looked back at the floor and allowing his anger to deflate.

"Why did you have to bring this all up now, today?"

"I don't understand, Harry."

"We were having such a good time in Hogsmeade. It was fun, you know, just spending the day with you. Why'd you have to cut it all short and come back here to talk about the bloody prophecy?"

"You're angry because I brought you back to the castle to talk to Professor Dumbledore?"

"_Yes!_" Harry exclaimed to the ceiling before looking down at his feet and continuing in a softer voice. "I'm always thinking about that damned prophecy. But today, in Hogsmeade, well, I was kind of able to forget about it for a while. It was almost like I was normal. Just a kid out in the village spending time with his… friend."

"And then I ruined it all by dragging you back here to talk about it. Oh Harry, I'm sorry!" Hermione said as she wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. "I didn't mean to ruin our day like that. I guess I could have waited until tonight, or tomorrow for that matter. But you know how I get sometimes; I get an idea and I just have to act on it right then."

"Yeah, I know," Harry sighed as he returned the hug. "You wouldn't be Hermione if you didn't rush off to research in the library or run your ideas by a professor."

Hermione pulled back just far enough to look Harry in the eyes.

"So do you forgive me?" she asked.

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"Thank you, Harry," she said before leaning up to give him a light kiss on the cheek which brought a small smile to Harry's face. "I guess I'll have to make it up to you somehow."

"Oh? And just how do you intend to do that?"

"I have no idea really," she said as she looped her arm through his and began walking in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. "Do you have any suggestions?"

_That's not something a pretty girl should ask a teenage guy_, Harry thought to himself.

"None that immediately come to mind," was what Harry actually said.

"Well, I suppose I'll just have to think of something then," Hermione answered as she leaned her head against Harry's shoulder. "And just for the record, I had a wonderful day today too, Harry. I'm sorry I cut it short. You can be surprisingly fun when you're not either being all sulky or swinging an overgrown stick around," Hermione said mischievously.

"Oi! You're supposed to be nice to me right after apologizing," Harry said with mock indignation.

"Oh fine."

"That's better. Now let's go see if Ron and Lavender are terrorizing all the firsties by snogging in the common room."

OoOoO

OoOoO

Harry's next riding class started off normally enough. Hermione decided to wear her new red breeches, which put a goofy grin on Harry's face. Hermione seemed rather pleased with that as well.

The students were all waiting near the stables for class to begin when one of the other girls came over to Harry.

"Hi Harry," said a Gryffindor girl that Harry didn't immediately recognize.

"Hi, err…"

"Romilda, Harry," said the dark-haired girl as she batted her eyelashes, "my name's Romilda Vane."

"Err… nice to meet you," responded Harry.

"Thanks, Harry. I asked Sir Firecam if I could switch to this class instead of the one for third and fourth years. It's at a better time for me, not to mention that there are so many more interesting people to talk to."

"Oh really?" asked Hermione from her place at Harry's side.

Romilda only spared the older witch a glance before addressing her response to Harry.

"Well, I can think of at least one person in this class that I could talk to all day and all night if need be."

"Err…"

"What do you think of my new breeches, Harry?" the younger girl asked as she spun around. "Gladrags had a sale you know. I think these are much better than my old pair; they allow for much more movement. Did you know I'm rather flexible? I can quite easily bend down and touch my toes."

And with that, Romilda turned her back to Harry, bent over, and touched her toes right in front of him. Harry's eyes widened in surprise at the rather brazen display put on by the young witch.

Hermione, on the other hand, narrowed here eyes into a frightening glare and then grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him to the other side of the barn, grumbling all the way.

"Stupid cow… Who does she think she is?"

"Umm…" began Harry, "not that I mind you manhandling me like this, but what was that all about?"

Hermione turned her glare on Harry before answering.

"That, that, _witch_ is a stupid cow who's severely lacking in common decency! Not to mention that she probably couldn't string a coherent thought together if her life depended on it!"

"Whoa there, Hermione. Where's all this suddenly coming from?"

"Oh don't be obtuse, Harry. She was clearly trying to come on to you. Bending over in front of you like that. She and the rest of the witches like her are only interested in you because you're 'the Chosen One.'"

"What do you mean 'the witches like her'?"

"Harry," Hermione began in a patient tone, "surely you've noticed the attention you've been getting from Hogwarts' female population lately?"

"What?"

"You mean you haven't noticed all the looks they've been giving you? The smiles and giggles when you walk by?"

"No."

"Well, they're there. Trust me."

"Well, what should I do about them?" Harry asked as he glanced back over to see Romilda pouting at him.

"Ignore them," said Hermione. "Like I said, they're only interested in the Chosen One. They don't know and they're not interested in the real Harry, not like…" Hermione stopped herself from saying whatever it was she was going to say and looked down to her feet.

"Not like?" Harry asked in a whisper.

But, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Keldorn who called for attention.

"Right," began the old knight, "get your horses saddled and out into the yard. I want to see everyone at a canter in fifteen minutes or less. Potter, Granger, Longbottom, Greengrass, Li and Abbott, come with me."

While most of the students went into the stables to see to their horses, the six students named by Keldorn followed the knight to another building.

"You six have already proven yourselves to be quite capable on horseback." Hermione smiled radiantly at her instructor's praise. "So I think it's time you moved on. This course is called Riding and _Magical _Mounts for a reason. Today, you will be starting with the hippogriffs." Hermione's smile faltered and her face paled while Harry grinned. "Hagrid tells me that you should already know how to approach a hippogriff from your Care of Magical Creatures course, so today I want you to pick a hippogriff from those in the yard behind this barn and familiarize yourself with them, much like you did with your horses. As you should already know, hippogriffs are extremely intelligent but also extremely proud animals. So treat them with proper respect or you will regret it. Any questions? No? Then get to it!"

Harry walked through the barn to see several hippogriffs in the yard beyond. He quickly spied the one he wanted and walked up to it. Harry bowed low, a gesture that was immediately returned by the creature.

"Hello, Buckbeak," said Harry. "How've you been? You want to be my mount for the next few classes?"

The hippogriff made a low chirping noise that Harry took for an affirmative.

Harry enjoyed that session spending time with Buckbeak, learning how to care for a hippogriff and the interesting harnesses and equipment that a person could use for riding one of the creatures. He was excited for the next class when he would hopefully get to take Buckbeak up into the sky.

Hermione, on the other hand, didn't seem to be enjoying herself all that much. It seemed to Harry that his best friend would much rather be riding her horse than worrying about hippogriffs. He supposed that the girl's aversion to flying had something to do with her overly cautious approach to the creatures.

After the class was finished, Harry stayed back to speak with Keldorn.

"You can head back to the tower, Hermione," Harry said to his best friend, "I'm going to stick around and talk to Sir Firecam about, well, _you know_."

"Alright, Harry," she responded, "just don't take too long. I want to know what he says."

With that the bushy-haired witch started walking back to the castle.

"You just wanted to watch her walk away," said a voice from behind Harry that startled the young wizard. Harry turned to see Ginny standing there with a smirk on her face. "Go on, admit it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," replied Harry. However, he did turn back to watch Hermione as she made her way to the castle entrance.

"Yes you do," said Ginny. "You just like watching her cute little bum in those tight riding breeches."

"Ginny!"

The petite witch threw her head back and laughed.

"Just admit it, Harry. You fancy Hermione."

"Shouldn't you be off snogging Dean somewhere?" Harry said sarcastically.

"Shouldn't _you_ be off snogging _Hermione_ somewhere?" Ginny shot back.

Harry glared at her, but she just laughed again.

"Seriously, Harry. Go for it. I highly doubt that she would object to a little tonsil Quidditch with you."

"If you'll excuse me, I need to speak with Sir Firecam."

"Oh alright. Be stubborn. Just don't be too stubborn, Hermione might move on. Then where will you find a girl that likes you for you and isn't just some fan girl?"

Harry strode away from the teasing Weasley to find Keldorn looking over the tack and harness in the stable.

"Sir Firecam?" he asked, "can I ask you a question?"

"What is it, Mr. Potter?"

"Well I was wondering, err… that is, Hermione had an idea."

"Yes?"

"Well, what did Professor Dumbledore tell you about me and Voldemort?"

Keldorn's demeanor shifted as he realized the seriousness of the conversation.

"Not very much, Mr. Potter."

Harry glanced around to make sure they were alone.

"You've probably heard people calling me 'the Chosen One', right?" the knight nodded. "Well there's some truth to that. There's a prophecy, you see, that says I'm the one that can beat him. But it also says that I'm supposed to have a 'power that he knows not.' Hermione had the idea that you are that power. Or I guess that being a paladin is the power. So we were thinking, well, could you teach me to be a paladin like you?"

Keldorn regarded Harry for a long, silent moment before finally speaking.

"No."

"What? Why not?" Harry asked in surprise at the knight's short, negative answer. He'd thought that he would at least consider it for a while before turning him down.

"You know nothing of what you ask."

"But you could teach me!"

"Mr. Potter, consecration as a paladin is not a means to an end. I will not set you upon a sacred path simply so you can fight Voldemort."

"What do you mean, 'simply to fight Voldemort'? He's the darkest, most evil wizard in the world! I thought you of all people would want to use every advantage to fight him!"

"I will not consecrate you just to fight one man."

"Why not?" Harry asked somewhat indignantly as his temper started to rise.

"Fine. Let's say that I do consecrate you and you do go on to defeat him. What then?"

"What has that got to do with anything?!"

"It has _everything_ to do with it, boy!" Keldorn said, his voice rising sharply to the point that he was nearly shouting. "Becoming a paladin is not something that you can turn off. Once you're consecrated, there is no turning back. You will be _sworn_ to fight the Darkness for the rest of your life. You will never be able to quit."

"That's fine with me."

"Is it? What do you even know of the life of a paladin? I've told you something of my order; you know that it is a very prestigious, honorable thing for a man to be inducted into it, yes? I've said that very few paladins are ever given this honor, yes?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Do you know what the requirements are for becoming a member of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart?"

"No."

"You must be a paladin who has served the Light faithfully for ten years. That is all."

"So what's your point?"

"My _point_, Mr. Potter, is that very few paladins _survive_ beyond a handful of years after their consecration. The fight against the Darkness claims us _all_, without exception. Most die before their first year of consecration is finished."

That comment quickly silenced Harry.

"Mr. Potter," continued Keldorn in a much calmer tone of voice, "I will not consecrate you, I will not lay such a heavy, sacred burden upon you, merely for you to fight one enemy, no matter how evil and powerful he is. I will not see your life destroyed as a means to an end.

"Any paladin would join you in standing against Voldemort. But you cannot _become_ a paladin simply to make that stand. This life is a calling, it is a holy and sacred _vocation_. Only those who were born for the purpose of standing with the Light against the onslaught of the Darkness can take up the mantle of the paladin. The war we are fighting will never end until the Final Battle at the end of time. Becoming a paladin cannot be done for the merely sake of defeating one enemy.

"Are you ready to lay down your life, to sacrifice everything you hold dear to forever after stand against the Darkness? Are you ready to dedicate the rest of what would likely be a very short life to the service of the Light in almost constant battle? Are you willing to die at a moment's notice in whatever task, great or small, is needed to stem the tide of evil?"

Harry didn't answer. He merely looked down at his feet.

"I know you mean well, Mr. Potter. I know that your desire is good. But I will not consecrate you simply for the fight against Voldemort. The paladin's calling must be much, much more than that.

"So, Mr. Potter, my answer to your question is no."

* * *

**AN: And there's Chapter XIV. Just as a head's up, my time off between graduating and starting my new job has now ended. With that, the amount of time I had for writing has greatly diminished. I'll still be working on this story, but updates will likely be a bit more erratic for the foreseeable future. I think I had a pretty good run of being able to post a new chapter every week for thirteen weeks, but there's just no way that I can keep up with that pace any longer.**

**Thanks to everyone who has favorited or followed the story.**

**And special thanks to everyone who has reviewed. Please let me know what you think. I love hearing from you.**

**And thanks for reading!**


	15. XV

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

XV

Harry was a mix of emotions as he walked back to Gryffindor Tower. He wasn't really sure if he should be angry, sad, happy or relieved that Keldorn had refused his request to learn how to become a paladin. He was a bit upset that the old knight had rejected him out of hand, but also relieved that he wouldn't need to go through with it. He was nervous about how Hermione would react to the news, and a bit embarrassed to know that he would have to tell her and the Headmaster that he'd been rejected. It was all very confusing.

As soon as he came through the portrait hole, Hermione pounced on him.

"Well?" she asked, "what did he say?"

Harry glanced around the crowded common room before returning his gaze to Hermione.

"Not here," he said.

"Oh, right," replied the young witch. "Sorry, you know how I get when I want to know something. Let's go find somewhere more private."

With that, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him back out into the corridors. She led the way down the seventh floor hallway to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy where she paced back and forth three times to make the door to the Room of Requirement appear.

Harry followed Hermione into the room to see a miniature version of the Gryffindor common room, although with a few alterations. There was only one sofa - a small loveseat that could barely fit two people. The loveseat faced a fireplace with a roaring fire, and a bearskin rug was spread on the floor in front of the hearth. The room had very soft lighting.

It was quite the romantic setting.

Harry looked over to Hermione and cocked an eyebrow.

"What exactly did you tell the room you needed?" he asked.

Hermione blushed slightly.

"I just thought, 'I need a room to be alone with Harry…'"

Harry didn't respond; instead he went over and took a seat on the couch. Hermione sat down next to him.

"Well," she said, "what did Sir Firecam have to say?"

Harry looked down to his lap, unable to meet her eyes.

"He said no," he admitted in a soft voice.

"What do you mean he said no?"

"I think that's pretty obvious. He said that he wouldn't train me to be a paladin."

"But… how… I don't understand!" Hermione exclaimed, rising to her feet, "how could he just say no?! This could be the only way to defeat Voldemort!"

"I told him that. He didn't seem to think that was a good enough reason for me to become a paladin."

"That's ridiculous!"

Harry just shrugged his shoulders.

"What exactly did he say?" continued Hermione.

"He said that being a paladin is more than just a way to fight Voldemort. It's a whole way of life. I'd have to swear to fight the Darkness for the rest of my life. He said that most paladins die within a year of their consecration and that he wouldn't put that burden on me just to fight Voldemort."

Hermione sobered a bit after hearing the knight's reasoning and sat down next to Harry once again.

"What do you mean most paladins die within a year?" she asked.

"Sir Firecam said that becoming a paladin basically guarantees an early grave," Harry answered. "They swear to literally dedicate their lives to fighting for the Light against the Darkness, which means most of them quickly get killed in the process."

"But Sir Firecam is at least, I would say sixty years old! He's been a paladin for decades."

"Yeah, he's apparently the exception to the rule. You know that order of knights that he's in? Well apparently the only requirement for joining is being a paladin for ten years. He said that there aren't very many members."

"That's… Oh Harry, that's so sad."

"Yeah. I'm not sure if I should be relieved that he won't let me become one, or angry that he doesn't think I'd make it."

Hermione didn't respond; she just sat staring at the fire for a long time. The two Gryffindors lapsed into silence together.

Eventually Harry broke the silence.

"Maybe I should tell him about the 'either must die at the hand of the other' bit," he said. "Maybe he won't worry so much about me getting killed if he knows that the prophecy says I'm probably going to bite the dust anyways."

Hermione responded by hitting him on the shoulder. Hard.

"Don't joke about that!" she said vehemently, "that's not funny."

"It's true though," Harry replied while rubbing his shoulder.

"No it isn't."

"Come on. What chance do I really have against a dark lord?"

"You're going to beat him, Harry," Hermione insisted.

"Be realistic, Hermione…"

"_Stop it!_" she shouted. "Just stop it already! You are _not_ going to die. You're going to beat him. _We're_ going to beat him. Together. I'm not going to let you die. So stop acting like you're already dead."

"Hermione…"

"No! We'll find a way. Maybe we can think of something to convince Sir Firecam to teach you. If not, I'll think of something else. But I am sure as _hell_ not going to let that monster take you away from me!"

Hermione was breathing rather heavily at the end of her rant. Harry noticed that there were unshed tears in her eyes as well. After a moment, she looked away from him and then stood up from the couch, ready to flee the room.

Harry didn't let her. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down into the seat next to him.

"Let go of me!" the irate witch shouted.

"No," replied Harry.

"Harry Potter, if you know what's good for you, you'll let go of me this instant!"

"No. If you get to insist that Voldemort isn't going to kill me, well, then I get to insist that you don't get to leave."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Yes it does! If you want to be in this together, then stay and help me figure this out."

Hermione sat quietly for a moment before responding.

"Fine. You can let go of my wrist. I won't run away."

"Promise?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I promise."

Harry loosened his grip on Hermione's arm, but didn't let go completely. Instead, he let his hand slide down into hers.

"I'm sorry for talking about dying like that. I didn't really mean it."

Hermione sighed.

"It's okay, Harry."

"It's just that…" Harry went on, "it just seems so impossible sometimes. But thanks for reminding me that I'm not alone in this."

"We'll figure something out," Hermione said as she looked at Harry with a smile. "We always do."

The two Gryffindors sat in silent contemplation for a little while before Hermione spoke up again.

"You know, just because most of the paladins on Sir Firecam's world die young doesn't mean that they would _here_."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Just think, the way he's described his home world the few times he's talked about it, he's made it seem like there were all sorts of evil monsters and villains out to cause trouble. We don't have too many ogres attacking villages here."

"This coming from the girl that was almost squashed by a mountain troll in her first year?"

"Well, I mean, okay, we do have some of that in the magical world. But it doesn't seem to be nearly as rampant as in his world. Besides, we tend to look at creatures like trolls and dragons as animals that need to be protected and controlled, instead of monsters that need to be fought."

"I don't think it's that simple, Hermione. There's still plenty of evil in the world that a paladin would _have_ to fight. I think that was Sir Firecam's point; a paladin doesn't get to _choose_ whether or not to fight, he _has_ to. He's not allowed to ignore the evil he comes across."

"Yes, but practically speaking, how often would you really come across a dangerous evil that you were required to physically fight?"

"Umm… have you been at Hogwarts with me for the past five years or not?"

"Well, yes, you have a point. We haven't exactly been idle, have we? But I think our experience is far from the norm. Not all of the students are fighting trolls and basilisks in their spare time."

"You make it sound like it was all so easy…"

"Hush. Anyways, I was saying that it's unlikely that you would need to fight something or someone very often in our world. Our society doesn't really look at violence as an acceptable way of dealing with conflict except in extreme circumstances. _Here_ it wouldn't really be _right_ for you to just attack an enemy. The good thing to do is to talk with them first."

"I don't know if that will convince him. It doesn't seem like he'll let me in on a hypothetical condition or technicality of what _might _happen here."

"I suppose you're right."

Harry and Hermione stayed in the Room of Requirement for a few hours. They were trying so hard to either come up with a way to convince Keldorn to train Harry, or with some other idea for what 'the power he knows not' might be that they completely missed dinner. In the end, they left without an answer, and made their way back to Gryffindor tower just before curfew.

OoOoO

OoOoO

That weekend, Harry received a note from the Headmaster to join him in his office after dinner for another private lesson. This time Harry brought Hermione along with him.

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore said in greeting as the two Gryffindors entered his office. "Miss Granger, is there something I can do for you this evening?"

"I asked her to come along," replied Harry. "I'm just going to end up telling her everything anyways, and she's much smarter than I am. I figured that it would just be easier to have her here to see things herself."

Dumbledore smiled.

"I think that is a marvelous idea," the old wizard replied. "It is always good to have allies that you can trust completely and with whom you can go over your ideas. I am glad that you have found such a confidant in Miss Granger."

The Headmaster then turned to address Hermione directly.

"Miss Granger, I trust that you understand the seriousness of the topics that we will be discussing this evening and in any future 'lessons.'"

"Of course," Hermione replied.

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Well then. Let's get to it, shall we?"

The three companions spent the evening viewing Pensieve memories about Tom Riddle's childhood upbringing in a Muggle orphanage. They witnessed Dumbledore's first meeting with him as he delivered his Hogwarts letter to the future dark lord. They spent some time afterwards discussing the personality of the young Tom Riddle and how the things they had seen might pertain to the current incarnation of Lord Voldemort.

It wasn't until a few hours later that the topic of Harry becoming a paladin finally came up.

"He said he wouldn't teach you, did he?" asked Dumbledore.

"Pretty much," replied Harry.

"Hmmm…" the old wizard hummed to himself as he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke up again.

"I have been pondering this idea quite a bit since our last gathering. I'm at a loss to think of any other likely theory for 'the power the Dark Lord knows not.' So, I would advise you to try again with our good Sir Firecam. Perhaps he just needs a bit of convincing."

"Err… he was pretty adamant about saying no," said Harry.

"Be that as it may, perhaps you could try a different tactic; come up with a different argument."

"We've tried," said Hermione, "we haven't been able to come up with anything convincing."

Dumbledore just smiled.

"Did you really expect to find the answer so quickly? I've often found that solutions to real problems are hard to come by. This isn't a homework assignment, Miss Granger. Just because the answer isn't easy to find doesn't mean it's not out there somewhere. You'll just have to keep looking until you find it."

"Couldn't you convince him to teach me, sir?" Harry enquired.

"Oh I highly doubt it," the Headmaster answered. "While Sir Firecam and I have a good understanding of one another, I do not think that my interference in this matter would be beneficial in the slightest. Besides, I have my hands rather full at the moment with other pressing concerns. No, this is a matter that I must trust that you will be able to handle yourself."

Harry just nodded.

"On another topic, I have some news from the Order that I thought I would share with you this evening. Professor Snape tells us that Voldemort has been rather unsettled as of late. I believe that the presence of our friend Sir Firecam has Tom quite concerned. He is apparently spending much of his time locked away doing research on some obscure topic that our spy has been unfortunately unable to discern. In any event, I think such news is welcome for the time being, as it also means that the Death Eaters have been rather inactive without direction from their master."

Harry nodded his head again, but Hermione asked a question.

"Do you have any idea what he might be looking for?"

"It is a dangerous game to start asking questions like that without more information. Our guesses could be far off the mark and lead us astray with disastrous results if we allow such thoughts to prejudice our thinking. So, in the meantime, I will make no guesses until we know more."

Without anything else to discuss, Dumbledore bid his two students goodnight and dismissed them for the evening.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Tuesday's riding class was the third session in which the six 'advanced' students worked with their hippogriffs and the first time that they actually rode the creatures. Unlike Hagrid's approach from years before, Keldorn had a much more conservative method in that he made his students thoroughly familiarize themselves with the creatures before they hopped on for a ride. They were also given clear instructions to keep their hippogriffs on the ground for the day.

Harry found that riding a hippogriff on the ground was pretty similar to riding a horse. The rhythm of the Buckbeak's movement was a little different, as the hippogriff was naturally much lighter and quicker on its feet, but otherwise it was very much the same. Hermione even seemed to overcome her initial hesitation and was once again riding alongside Harry on a dark grey hippogriff named Aristotle as they skirted the border of the Forbidden Forest. Harry supposed that the old knight's order to keep the beasts firmly on the ground went a long way to boosting his best friend's confidence as she didn't have to worry about flying just yet.

A few other students had 'graduated' from riding horses to familiarizing themselves with the hippogriffs, among them were Ginny and Luna, but neither of them had been cleared for riding just yet.

"Did I mention that Sir Firecam finally let me examine his enchanted gorget yesterday?" Hermione spoke up from beside Harry.

"No, you didn't," Harry replied.

"Yes, well, I think I'm going to try and recreate the enchantment to see if I can get similar results with normal clothing for a special project with Professor McGonagall," Hermione explained. "Just imagine, all you'd have to do is put on a shirt or a hat, say a command word, and poof! you're instantly wearing in your finest dress robes!"

"So you think that might help you cut down on the time you need to get ready every morning?" asked Harry with a grin. "I swear, I have to wait longer and longer each day for you to come down before we can go to breakfast."

"Hush you. Don't you know that waiting on a woman is good for a man?" Hermione replied with a cheeky grin of her own.

"Oh is it now?"

"Absolutely."

"Girls," Harry responded with a shake of his head, "I'll never get you lot figured out."

"Nor should you," said Hermione, "We're supposed to keep you guessing."

"Hey Harry, Hermione," greeted Neville as he rode up beside them on his own dark brown hippogriff. "Isn't this great? I think taking this course was the best idea I've ever had."

"You're just saying that because Hannah Abbott keeps asking you for help getting down from her saddle," Harry shot back with a smile.

Neville blushed.

"Harry, be nice," chastised Hermione.

"Yes, dear," Harry replied.

Hermione's hippogriff tossed its head in annoyance at something and Hermione responded with a gentle pat on the side of its neck.

"Easy there, Books," she said.

"Hermione, why do you insist on calling your hippogriff 'Books'?" asked Harry. "Its name is Aristotle, for Pete's sake!"

"Well, I think Books fits him rather well. Besides, he likes it. Don't you, Books?"

The hippogriff actually chirped in response.

"See?" Hermione said with a smug grin.

Whatever retort Harry was about to make was cut off by a loud scream from somewhere up ahead. The three Gryffindors stopped their mounts and looked up to see a hippogriff take off into the air with its rider dangling halfway out of the saddle. The creature flew out low over the Forbidden Forest. It was flying erratically, and soon enough its rider was thrown off into the treetops of the forest.

"Where's Sir Firecam?" Harry asked no one in particular as he stared at the forest, trying to estimate how far in he had seen the girl fall.

"I think he took Romilda to the hospital wing," replied Neville. "I saw her spook her horse earlier and it kicked her in the leg."

"Right," said Harry with a decisive nod, "I'm going to go into the forest and find whoever that was. They're probably hurt and it's dangerous in there. We need to get them out."

"Harry… are you sure you should do that?" asked Hermione. "Shouldn't we wait for a professor?"

"We don't have time!" Harry said emphatically. "Who knows what might happen to whoever that was while we wait around. I'm going in. Hermione, go find Sir Firecam and tell him what's happened."

"Oh no you don't, Harry Potter!" replied Hermione. "You're not going in there alone. If you insist on this I'm going with you. Someone has to keep you out of trouble."

"Hermione, don't argue…"

"I'll go find Sir Firecam," offered Neville.

"See, that's settled," said Hermione.

Harry shook his head but decided not to argue any further.

"Fine, let's go."

With that, Harry and Hermione spurred their hippogriffs to ride into the forest.

Even though it was the middle of the afternoon, the forest's thick canopy cut off most of the sun's light, creating a dark and foreboding atmosphere. It was unnaturally quiet in the forest; no birds or other small animals could be heard at all. The two Gryffindors readied their wands as they rode deeper into the forest in the direction that they'd last seen their classmate.

The trees were planted close together, ruling out the possibility of urging the hippogriffs into the air if the need for a quick exit arose.

"I don't like this, Harry," whispered Hermione.

"We'll be fine," Harry whispered back. "We just need to find whoever that was and leave as quickly as possible."

A few minutes later, Hermione's hippogriff started to act a bit skittish.

"Its okay, Books," Hermione said, trying to sooth the animal.

Buckbeak was much calmer, but would let out a quick snort every once in a while as his eyes darted left and right.

"Something's not right here," said Hermione.

"There! Up ahead! I can see her!" said Harry as he urged Buckbeak to go a bit faster. Hermione quickly caught up with him as Harry jumped down from his saddle to land next to an unconscious Daphne Greengrass. The Slytherin girl's left leg was bent at an odd angle, clearly broken, and there was blood on her face.

"Hermione, come closer. I'll pick her up and put her across Aristotle."

"Did you hear that?" Hermione asked as Harry lifted the unconscious girl into his arms.

"Hear what?"

"I thought I heard a clicking sound."

"We'd better hurry then."

Harry had just slung Daphne over Aristotle in front of Hermione when he heard the noise. It sounded like a bunch of fast, loud clicks, almost as if someone were tapping dozens of stones together. He quickly cast a Sticking Charm to make sure that the injured girl wouldn't fall and then went back to his mount.

Buckbeak snorted loudly and began scratching at the ground.

"That's not good," Harry mumbled as he scrambled back into his saddle.

"What's not good?" Hermione asked a bit hysterically.

"Acromantulas."

All color quickly drained out of Hermione's face as her eyes widened.

"Let's go, Hermione!" Harry shouted, trying to get moving before it was too late. Hermione snapped out of her daze and together they spurred their hippogriffs back toward the castle as fast as they dared.

Just then, one of the huge, hairy, black spiders leapt down from the trees and landed on the path in front of them. Hermione screamed, but Harry reacted by pointing his wand.

"_Reducto!_" he shouted. The spider dodged out of the way but Harry's spell cleared the way before them.

"Come on, Hermione!" He shouted as they raced for freedom. "Come on, Buckbeak, go faster!"

Harry looked back over his shoulder to see several of the grotesque, giant spiders following on their heels. The hippogriffs were faster than the hideous creatures, but just barely. And there were many, many more of them.

"_Reducto!_" Harry shouted with his wand pointed behind him. He wasn't really aiming to hit the creatures, but to slow them down. If he could create enough if a gap between them and their pursuers, they might just be able to get away. Harry frantically started throwing spells out behind him.

"_Reducto! Confringo! Displodo!_" He shouted.

He saw out of the corner of his eye that Hermione was likewise casting spells at their pursuers, only instead of Blasting and Exploding Hexes, she was shooting volleys of icicles at them or freezing the ground in the hopes that the spiders would slip and fall.

Suddenly, both Buckbeak and Aristotle skidded to an abrupt halt and reared up on their hind legs, letting out shrill cries. Amazingly, both Harry and Hermione managed to stay in their saddles as Harry looked ahead to see that the path was once again blocked, but this time by at least a dozen Acromantulas.

The sound of dozens of hungry, scurrying spiders filled the air as Harry and Hermione were quickly surrounded.

"Crap."

* * *

**AN: Well, there's Chapter 15. Sorry it took so long, but life is busy. I've no idea when the next one will be up, so you'll all just have to practice the virtue of patience. That should be easy, right?**

**Anyways, please leave a review on your way out. And thanks for reading!**


	16. XVI

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and her various corporate partners. Keldorn Firecam is owned by BioWare, Atari, or whoever it is that owns the rights to **_**Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn**_** these days, although I have taken several liberties with his character. I own nothing, and I am making no profit by my little ventures into the shadowy realms of fanfiction. I do so purely for enjoyment. I would, however, like to thank JKR for allowing us all to play in her sandbox.**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart

XVI

"Oh _bugger!_" exclaimed Hermione as she frantically cast her eyes around at the swarm of huge Acromantulas that surrounded her and Harry. "Bugger me! _Bugger, bugger, bugger!_"

Harry only barely registered Hermione's uncharacteristic use of foul language as his mind raced for an idea that could get them out of their deadly predicament. Buckbeak and Aristotle, the two hippogriffs that they had ridden into the forest to rescue Daphne, were loudly screeching at the spiders and continually rearing up on their hind legs, flailing their sharp front claws at the beasts.

So far, it seemed like the spiders were hesitant to approach, but Harry knew it was only a matter of time. He knew he needed to do something fast or they were dead meat.

"Oh screw it! _Reducto!_" Harry shouted as he began to cast into the mass of swarming Acromantulas. "_Confringo! Displodo! Reducto!_" He desperately hoped that his Basting and Exploding Hexes would drive the spiders back a bit and buy them some time.

A few of his spells struck the spiders, who shrieked in agony as their exoskeletons were blasted apart and thick, green gunk splattered onto the ground. Most of his hexes missed, however, and instead slammed into the ground, tearing up great fountains of dirt and stones with a thunderous roar.

Harry's spellcasting seemed to stir Hermione into action.

"Harry!" she shouted, "Fire! Use fire spells to hold them back! _Incendio!_"

A jet of crimson flame shot out of Hermione's wand and washed over the ground in front of a group of spiders. The Acromantulas screamed in rage, and fled from the burning flames. Harry switched to Hermione's more effective tactic and together they held the spiders at bay with a wall of fire cast in a wide circle around them.

"We need to make an exit!" Harry shouted. "We won't be able to hold them off for long!"

Just then one of the largest spiders in the swarm leaped down from the trees and landed with a crash in between Harry and Hermione. Hermione's hippogriff bucked wildly, and threw her from the saddle. The young witch screamed as she flew through the air and landed with a crunch on the ground. Harry looked over to see the monster moving to loom over his defenseless friend.

"_HERMIONE!_"

Harry aimed his wand and let lose with a Blasting Curse.

"_Reducto!_"

The spell, however, only bounced off the spider's thick shell and didn't even divert its attention from the girl on the ground.

At a loss for what else to do, Harry spurred Buckbeak forward and charged headlong at the beast with a scream of rage. Harry's cry was joined by a scream from Buckbeak as they crashed into the side of the giant spider. The hippogriff used its sharp beak and claws to tear at the creature, while Harry cast spell after useless spell at its unyielding armor.

With a shake of her head, Hermione began to come to, only to screamed in terror when she saw the Acromantula looming above her. She scrambled out from underneath it just as Buckbeak lowered his head and slammed the beast aside. The spider turned, and readied itself for another attack while Harry cast his glance around the clearing. The ring of fire was dying down and soon the swarm would be upon them.

With a sudden movement, the spider shot a burst of wet, sticky webbing at Buckbeak's legs. The hippogriff toppled over with a shrill cry and threw Harry to the forest floor, the impact driving the wind out of his lungs. He thought he heard Hermione shout something, but the pain in his chest and the blood pounding in his head made it difficult to tell.

Harry blinked to clear his vision, only to look up to see the arachnid standing over him. Thick, green venom dripped from its mandibles and its clustered eyes seemed to glint with malice. It opened its jaws wide to deliver a killing strike, but Harry thrust his wand up and with all his might sent a Blasting Curse directly into the beast's mouth.

"_Confringo!_"

The spider's head exploded in a shower of blood and gore, covering Harry as its massive body collapsed to the ground.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted as she frantically pulled him to his feet. "Oh, Merlin, Harry!"

"I'm alright," he said as he took in their situation. The spiders were still held back by the ring of fire, but that was dying down with every passing second. Things were not looking good.

"Where's my wand?!" Hermione desperately asked. "I lost it when Aristotle threw me."

Harry sent a Cutting Curse at the webbing that was wrapped around Buckbeak's legs, freeing the creature before looking for his companion's wand.

"_Accio Hermione's wand!"_

The short length of vine wood flew into his hand and he quickly tossed it to Hermione.

Aristotle still had Daphne slung across his back while he and Buckbeak paced back and forth.

Harry and Hermione stood back to back as the ring of fire faltered.

"Harry," said the distressed girl as she groped for his hand, "I'm glad I'm with you."

The flames went out and the spiders were just about to surge forward when a bright light and a loud cry pierced the darkness of the forest. Harry whipped his head to the side to see Keldorn charging through the spiders on the back of a powerful horse. His armor sparkled and his blade shone like the sun as he swung it about him, cutting a wide swath of fury through the mass of arachnids. The paladin's sword blazed with light so bright that Harry had to shield his eyes. The spiders, used to living in the perpetual darkness of the forest and fearful of such wondrous light, retreated before the onslaught of the knight's brilliant weapon.

"Get back on your mounts!" commanded the knight as he cleaved through the head of a spider that was too slow to flee.

Harry quickly obeyed and helped Hermione into the saddle before climbing onto Buckbeak.

"Ride for the castle!" shouted Keldorn, "_Ride!_"

The two students didn't need to be told twice and spurred their hippogriffs through the opening that Keldorn had created as fast as they could possibly go.

Harry looked over his shoulder to see the knight cut down one last, humongous arachnid before turning and following his two students. The spiders scattered and dispersed, fleeing from the wrath of the armored warrior.

A few moments later, the two hippogriffs and their passengers burst through the tree line, followed shortly thereafter by Keldorn and his horse.

Harry pulled back on his reigns to slow his mount only to be rebuked by Keldorn as he rode up beside them.

"Don't stop. Go straight to the infirmary."

Harry didn't respond, he simply obeyed the command of the man who saved both his and Hermione's lives once again.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Later, still covered in dirt and gore, Harry and Hermione sat side by side on one of the beds in the hospital wing as the school matron bustled about the room. Hermione was shivering, and Harry doubted that it had anything to do with the cold or with the hairline fracture in her lower left leg. After a moment of hesitation from fear that she would just push him away, he decided to put his arm around her shoulders. Far from pushing him away, Hermione leaned into him, seeming to seek shelter and protection from the outside world as her shivers continued unabated. Madam Pomfrey was attending to Daphne first, as the girl's injuries were likely much more serious, but she promised to look them over soon.

Hermione reached up with her right hand and grabbed the front of Harry's shirt in her fist. Harry looked down at her face, buried in his shoulder as her shivers turned into sobs. He wrapped his arms around her protectively as she cried.

"I thought we were going to die," Hermione whispered once her tears stopped.

"I know," Harry quietly responded, "so did I."

"When that spider was standing over me, looking down at me with those horrible eyes," Hermione continued, "I thought that was it. I thought that was the end. I can't believe that you actually charged into it like that. You saved my life."

"I think it was Sir Firecam that saved both our lives," Harry responded.

"True, but I'd still be dead if it weren't for you. I can't believe you attacked it like that."

"What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, Harry. Merlin knows I'm not angry or upset that you did it. I just can't believe it. I can't believe that you would throw yourself at a monster like that for me."

Harry looked into Hermione's red, puffy eyes. Her face was blotchy from crying and there were tear tracks running down her cheeks.

"I'd do anything for you."

Hermione didn't respond, she simply planted a long kiss on his cheek, wrapped him in a tight hug, and refused to let go.

A fair amount of time passed before the door banged open while Madam Pomfrey was tending to the two Gryffindors. Professor McGonagall strode into the room followed by Sir Firecam who had sheathed his sword, but was still wearing his armor. The Deputy Headmistress was obviously in a towering rage as she approached her two students.

"Whit waur ye bairns_ thinkin'?!_" McGonagall asked, her speech reverting to her thick Scottish Brogue in her anger. "Ye coods hae bin killed runnin' aff loch 'at!"

Hermione seemed to shrink, burrowing into Harry's side under the withering gaze of her favorite professor. But Harry met the professor's eyes straight on. He wasn't really sure how to react, given that he could barely understand a word she was saying.

"Ne'er in aw mah years hae Ah seen sic' a reckless display! I'll hae ye tois in detention scrubbin' floors until th' moon falls frae abune!"

"I think that's enough for now, Minerva," said Dumbledore as he calmly strode into the room. "Besides, I doubt that young Harry and Hermione are well versed in Scottish."

McGonagall glared at the Headmaster, but ceased her yelling as she visibly tried to calm herself down.

"Now," continued Dumbledore, "I understand you two ventured into the forest and had a run in with some of the wildlife there."

Hermione shivered while Harry responded.

"Well, that's certainly one way of putting it."

Dumbledore smiled.

"Yes, I find that putting things lightly sometimes helps to keep the darker thoughts at bay," he replied.

"It was a very brave thing that these two did," said Keldorn. "Reckless and foolish maybe, but brave nonetheless. I think it is safe to say that without their actions, Miss Greengrass would no longer be with us."

"Indeed," agreed Dumbledore. "I think some sort of reward is in order. Don't you agree, Minerva?"

"Ye cannae be serioos!" responded the Deputy Headmistress, the strength of her accent making it obvious for everyone to know that she was still furious. "They need tae be punished fur their actions!"

"I think that their experience in the forest is punishment enough," said Dumbledore. "I highly doubt that either Mister Potter or Miss Granger has any desire to venture back into those woods any time soon." Both Harry and Hermione quickly shook their heads. "Besides, they did save Miss Greengrass' life at the risk of their own. I think one hundred points to Gryffindor for each of them as well as an award for special services to the school to be presented at a future date should suffice. What do you say, Harry, Hermione?"

The two students just looked at their professors in shock. Hermione eventually nodded her head.

"Well, that's settled then," said Dumbledore. "Minerva, please arrange things for the award. Now then, let's check in with Miss Greengrass and then I think I could use a nice cup of tea. Would you like to join me, Minerva?"

With that, the two professors left to see Daphne on the other side of the infirmary. Keldorn remained, however.

"That really was a brave thing you did today," said the old knight. "Especially since I understand that that two of you have been in the Forbidden Forest before and know firsthand of the dangers therein."

Harry just shrugged his shoulders while Hermione maintained her hold on him.

"Thank you for saving us," said Harry.

"I merely did my duty," Keldorn responded. "You are both students under my charge. I could have done no less. You two, however, were under no such obligation to risk your lives for a classmate. That you did so makes me proud to say that I know you. Well done. May the Light shine on you always."

After Keldorn had left and Pomfrey had healed Hermione's leg and generally finished with them, the matron dismissed the two Gryffindors.

"But before you leave, Miss Greengrass has asked to speak with you," Madam Pomfrey said as she gestured to one of the beds that was surrounded by privacy screens.

Harry and Hermione approached the bed and entered the private area. Daphne was lying on the bed, her legs covered by the thin, white sheet. Her head and torso were wrapped in thick bandages and there were several open vials sitting on the nightstand. Daphne stared at the two Gryffindors shyly for a moment before speaking.

"Pomfrey said that you two saved my life."

"Err… yeah." Harry replied with his usual elegance.

"I don't really remember what happened," Daphne continued, "one minute I was riding the hippogriff and the next it just took off and then I was falling into the trees. That's all I can remember. She said that you saved me from the Acromantulas?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" the injured girl asked.

"What?" asked Harry in confusion.

"I thought you two hated all the Slytherins."

"Oh don't be silly," replied Hermione, "Just because Malfoy is a pompous brat doesn't mean we hate all of you."

"Besides," added Harry, "I couldn't even tell who it was that fell into the forest. I would have gone after anyone really."

"You're such a Gryffindor," said Daphne with an attempt at a smile, "and I mean that as a compliment. Thank you for saving my life."

"You're welcome," said Harry.

"Come on, Harry," said Hermione, "Let's let Daphne rest a bit."

They left the hospital wing and slowly wandered back toward their dormitories. Harry was really looking forward to a shower.

"I can't believe it," said Harry.

"What, that we're still alive?" asked Hermione.

"No, not that. I can't believe that your response to being surrounded by Acromantulas was to say, 'Bugger me! Bugger, bugger, bugger!'" Harry said with a teasing smile.

"Oh, be quiet you."

"I mean, I never took you for that kind of girl."

"Prat."

OoOoO

OoOoO

Harry and Hermione were presented with their award for special services to the school on the following Friday during dinner. Harry was rather embarrassed to be paraded in front of the school. It wasn't like he put much thought into the process or _decided_ that he should act heroically, he just saw someone in danger and he reacted. The fact that he had to fight off a colony of Acromantulas was beside the point.

Nevertheless, the Headmaster called Harry and Hermione forward during the evening meal and had them stand in front of the assembled student body while he gave a short and rather heavily edited version of the events that transpired in the Forbidden Forest. The giant spiders were mentioned, but the fact that if it wasn't for the timely arrival of Sir Firecam the school would be currently planning three funerals was glossed over. After he was finished, Dumbledore presented them both with a bronze plaque. Harry quickly read what was inscribed on it.

Awarded to

HARRY JAMES POTTER

for

SPECIAL SERVICES TO HOGWARTS SCHOOL

OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

for

Courageously saving the life of a fellow student

at the risk of his own.

Harry glanced over at Hermione's to note that it said exactly the same thing, except for her name in place of his of course. He was happy that he wasn't being singled out for the award and that Hermione was being given the recognition that she deserved as well. After acknowledging the polite applause of their peers, with surprising enthusiasm coming from the Slytherin table, they handed the awards back to the Headmaster so that they could be added to the school's trophy case.

It was the next morning at breakfast that things got interesting. Harry was just digging into his fry-up when the owl post arrived. A few moments later Hermione grabbed his elbow to get his attention.

"Look, Harry!" she exclaimed. "We made the paper!"

Harry groaned.

"Just what I needed, another article in the Prophet," he responded. "What did I do this time? Did I go 'round the bend again?"

"Oh honestly, Harry. It's about the award from yesterday."

"Great. All I need is another reason for people to stare at me." Nevertheless, Harry leaned over to read the article along with Hermione.

_HARRY POTTER FIGHTS OFF SWARM OF SPIDERS!_

_CHOSEN ONE AND GIRLFRIEND SAVE SLYTHERIN STUDENT'S LIFE!_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Witnesses report that Harry Potter, known to most as the Boy Who Lived, or more recently as the Chosen One, has recently been given an award for special services to Hogwarts. He and his current love-interest, one Hermione Granger rode into the Forbidden Forest to save the life of their classmate Daphne Greengrass, a sixth year student from Slytherin house._

_We here at the Prophet are told that Greengrass was unconscious and helpless as a swarm of at least one hundred gigantic Acromantulas descended upon her after an accident that left her stranded in the forest. All hope was not lost, however, as the Gryffindor Duo literally rode onto the scene on the backs of two hippogriffs, casting spells left and right to drive back the monstrous creatures. Potter and Granger fought side by side and back to back and managed to force the creatures to retreat._

_The question that most readers will want to know is, of course, just who is Hermione Granger - the witch who fought along side our hero? Attentive readers will recall that Granger has been romantically connected with Potter before. Two years ago during the Tri-Wizard Tournament speculation was rampant that Granger was at the heart of a love-triangle that pitted Potter against international Quidditch star and fellow Tri-Wizard Champion Viktor Krum in a battle for her affections. It seems to this reporter that the battle for the lovely lady has been definitively won by Potter as Krum is nowhere to be seen. Witnesses report, however, that Granger is constantly at Potter's side._

_Has Potter finally picked a young lady at Hogwarts to shower his affections upon? Is Granger to be the heroine that will fight alongside our hero? Is she to be the Chosen One's chosen one? How exactly did she win the heart of the most eligible wizard in Britain? What does this mean for all the other witches in the world vying for a chance to become Mrs. Potter? Readers want to know._

_For more on Potter's battle in the Forbidden Forest, see page 3._

_For a list of dangerous creatures known to live in the Forbidden Forest, see page 5._

_For a reprinting of articles detailing the Potter-Granger-Krum love triangle, see pages 8-11._

_For speculation about how Granger won Potter's heart, see pages 12-15._

_For speculation on past, current and potential future love-interests for Potter, see pages 16-27._

By the time Harry and Hermione had finished the article, they were both bright red. Hermione was also sputtering in indignation.

"But! How? Oh… that woman! I knew I never should have let her out of that jar!" she exclaimed.

"If it wasn't Skeeter, it would just be someone else," commented Harry.

"Speculation on my love life!" Hermione continued her rant, heedless of the many faces that were now turned to scrutinize the wizarding world's newest celebrity couple. "Chosen One's chosen one indeed! How dare she?!"

Harry felt bad for Hermione. While he was used to all the media attention to a certain extent, the experience of having your life detailed in the paper for all to see was something that he would have shielded Hermione from if he could. Even though she wasn't exactly new to the experience as she did get a taste of it back in their fourth year.

Harry also felt a bit guilty because he actually _liked_ reading the speculation about him being paired up romantically with Hermione. He wasn't exactly glad that it was printed in bold across the front page of magical Britain's leading newspaper, but it did give Harry a little, warm feeling nonetheless.

"Hello Harry Potter. Hello Hermione."

Harry was brought out of his musings and Hermione from her rant by the arrival of Luna Lovegood.

"I'm glad to see that Operation Quidditch is going so well for you, Hermione," the blonde continued. "Or was that Operation Spinach? Which one was it again? Were you the one that was trying to crossbreed Crups with Snorkacks, or was that daddy? Perhaps you could help with that anyways, because we never really could figure out what to do with all that spinach…"

The attention of the Gryffindor table was momentarily diverted from Harry and Hermione's love life due to the confusion delivered by the fifth year Ravenclaw.

"Anyways," Luna continued, "daddy wrote an article about you two. I thought you'd like to read it."

With that, she placed a fresh copy of _The Quibbler_ on the table. With some trepidation, Harry and Hermione scanned the front page for any mention of their names. They skimmed over headlines such as _Snorkacks Break Speed Limit_, _What is Scrimgeour Doing with All Those Chickens? _and even _I Spent the Night with Fungus-Man: Turns Out He is Highly Overrated_ before becoming even more confused.

"Err… Luna," said Harry, "where exactly is the article about us?"

"Oh. Don't you want to read about Fungus-Man first? It really is a lovely exposé."

"Maybe later."

"Okay. Your article is on page twenty three."

Hermione quickly turned the pages to find the article in question.

_HARRY POTTER SAVED FROM BLOOD RITUAL BY ACROMANTULAS!_

_By Xenophilius Lovegood_

_Sources close to Hogwarts report that Harry Potter was almost used as a human sacrifice in a rare, magical blood ritual. The ritual's performer and well-know girl genius is none other than Hermione the Granger. (How exactly one goes about 'granging' is a topic that will be examined at length in our next issue.)_

_Sources report that the blood of the last Potter was to be used to rig the academic rankings at Hogwarts, placing Draco Malfoy in the top position. Thankfully, the ritual was interrupted by a passing colony of Acromantulas. The gigantic spiders, which are most well known for their choreography, were able to convince the Granger of the error of her ways. Thus tragedy has once again been averted._

_Other sources say that the interrupted ritual then became a wedding ceremony by default (as interrupted rituals are wont to do) and that Potter and the Granger are now married. The veracity of this statement is yet to be confirmed._

_For more ways to unintentionally get married, see page 17._

_For more on my night with Fungus-Man, see page XXXIV._

_For reactions from the Acromantula colony, see page rhombus._

"Well that certainly wasn't what I was expecting," said Hermione.

"I think I like _The Quibbler_'s version better," added Harry.

* * *

**AN: McGonagall's Scottish accent was written with the aid of a rather amusing online generator that can be found at www dot whoohoo dot co dot uk. Go check it out; it's a lot of fun!**

**What did you think of the articles? I added them on a whim, mainly because the chapter was too short, and I didn't want to start the next major scene just yet. So they're kind of just there as (hopefully) amusing filler. Let me know if you think they're too terrible to stay.**

**I saw an unexpected upswing in traffic visiting this story over the past week, which actually gave me the energy that I needed to get this chapter out. While I'm happy to see so many people coming to read my little tale, I'm curious as to how it happened. My only thought is that one of the more heavily trafficked authors on the site gave me a little plug during one of their latest updates. If that's the case, and if any of you know who did so, I would ask you to kindly let me know in a review, so that I can offer thanks where they are do.**

**Thanks to everyone who favorited or put an alert on the story; I'm happy to know you're enjoying it.**

**Special thanks to those who left a review; you're all wonderful!**

**Please leave a review on your way out. I want to know what you think!**

**And thanks for reading!**


End file.
